#I caved to minor peer pressure

[sparxaf]

The Sweetest Sting Ch 11

MC/Lewie/Marshall/Ozzy villa smut fic

AO3 | Wattpad

In which Amelia shows her whole, entire ass and Rora and Lewie get their happily ever after.

Epilogue will either go up on Thursday or next Monday! We'll see how antsy I am to officially finish the fic.

[melinoelliones]

After Hours | Meliodas X Fem Reader

You had just stumbled into the Boar Hat after hours, but I bet the bartender can fix you up a little something.

2.5K Words

MINORS DNI/AGELESS BLOGS DNI/ANTI DC DNI/18+

Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, spanking, filling up, masterbation, slight breath play, tears, praise

HI HI! Back with the smut hehe, sorry this was SUPER LATE. I hope the Meliodas lovers enjoy mwah mwah. I just wanna note that...

1. This is selfshippy, reader is a princess of Liones (not Elizabeth). Not beta read.

2. I tried to make sure it was similar to canon Meliodas but I think I may have slipped up a bit. I read it over in his voice so it’s not like SUPER off. We may interpret him differently.

3. I am a NEW WRITER so this may be written weird I APOLOGISE!!

SO ANYWAYS..... have fun

“SORRY GUYS THE BOAR HATS CLOSED, COME BACK TOMORROW”, a familiar voice called out from the bar, their back facing you as they continued polishing glasses.

You had just made your way over from your father, King Batra’s party he had thrown for the Sins as a thank you for another successful mission to protect Liones. Usually you’d just stay home in the palace with your sisters and the others or atleast until it was over, however Meliodas had decided to keep the Boar Hat open and stay there, so you thought, why not surprise him and keep him company?

You sneakily strolled through the tavern, taking a seat at the bar without a word. “I said the Boar Hat is clos~ ah well hello there beautiful” Meliodas gave you a smug grin, peering behind to see you sat across from him. 

“Space for one more?” you pouted, your puppy dog eyes were almost impossible for him to resist, “bars closed im afraid….. But I'm sure I can fix you up something real quick”, he caved, flashing you a quick wink before turning back to the alcohol.

Meliodas may have been a terrible cook, horrendous cook even but he could make a killer drink with absolutely anything, he also knew your taste palette particularly well and had yet to fail at coming up with a concoction you’d enjoy. And who could turn down a free drink?

You watched as the captain shook up up a drink for you, showing off along the way with a few bottle flips and tricks, “like what you see?” he joked as you rolled your eyes, attempting to hide your laughter. He was quite the show off sometimes but you adored every last second of it every time.

Placing a single kiss on the rim of the glass, the barkeep slid the dark coloured beverage in front of you. As you took a sip from the spot he kissed you hummed in glee, “oooo it's actually really good, maybe the best one so far”.

 “Aye, what kind of barkeep would I be if I couldn’t make my girl the perfect drink huh?” he shrugged, making his way out the bar over to the stools you were sat at.

As you continued to down your glass Meliodas quizzed you on your antics prior to coming over, you answered blindly, blissfully unaware that the man was now directly behind you, your back flush against his chest.

“I did miss you though, there was no chance that I’d stay in the palace till the end when I could come see you” you smiled sweetly to yourself, swirling the left over ice cubes. 

“Is that right, what did you miss about me hmm?” he mumbled against your neck, a wave of chills rushing through your body as you realised how close the guy now was to you. A pair of hands roamed freely across your chest, your tight fitted shirt making it easy for them to feel up every inch of it.

“I m~missed your erm jokes”

“Mmhmm what else?” he questioned, slithering one hand down from your chest to your lower stomach, lifting up your skirt in the process. Before you could muster up a response Meliodas ran his fingers along your slit before creating small circles on your clit, the friction from your underwear across it making you yearn for more. 

“Hey hey, I asked you a question didn’t I? What else did you miss about me tonight?” he teased, increasing the pressure on your sensitive clit as you cursed beneath your breath.

As you pondered for a second, Meliodas inched your newly damp underwear to the side, sliding your lips apart to reveal how wet you already were. “Well would you look at that” he smirked, using your own precum to ease two fingers into you, “you’re already drenched for me, I haven’t even started yet”. 

You yelped softly as he re-asked you the question that had completely slipped your mind, “Go on princess, you missed…..?”. 

” I~er missed your umm company?” you winced, lost for answers as he pushed his digits knuckles deep into your soaking cunt before curling them to find the sensitive patch. Your body naturally twitched as he found it, letting him know exactly what to pay attention to.

You melt into his touch, hips rocking into his fingers as he sped up, his palm pressing against your semi-swollen bud adding to the pleasure. 

The guy allowed his free hand to make work of your neglected breasts, skimming it under your form-fitted shirt as he kneaded your already hard nipples between his fingers, “Is that right? Did you miss this too? Me feeling you up?”. 

You could feel the blood rushing to your lower stomach as he focused on the growing spot inside of you, your hips rolling into his fingers, your moans soft but sloppy due to the overload of stimulation, “Meliodas p~please I-” 

“I know I know” he smirked, trailing a few small kisses on the nape of your neck.

“Hold your breath for me okay?”

Doing as told you took in a small breath, the barman deepened the curls of his fingers whilst the other hand twisted your nipples as you squirmed. You clung to your seat, the sound of him sliding in and out of you like music to his ears, “And out” he commanded.

The heat in your stomach was at its peak, you tried to steady your breathing as you could feel yourself reaching the end, “could ya hold your breath again love”. 

Taking in another breath you threw your head back against his chest “now cum for me, right here on this stool” he urged, scissoring his digits deeper inside you, his palm swiping against your clit harshly, your muffled whimpers and whines keeping him going. 

Your body twisted and turned in the stool as you came, coating his fingers completely as your thighs squeezed together around the guy's hand, yet he kept his pace allowing you to long out every second of your peak. Your chest tightened slightly as you remembered you were holding your breath, “You can breathe now my love” Meliodas chuckled.

Your breathless body fell back against him whilst you caught your breath, his warmth calming you down as he slid out his fingers, “well would you look at that, you did so well. Why dontcha clean these off for me too?” he asked, you could almost hear the smirk on his face as he showed you his fingers, they were almost dripping in your release.

In between breaths you rolled out your tongue, allowing him to slip them into your mouth, “that’s it” he cooed watching you suck yourself off them, your tongue weaving along them taking it all in before he pulled them away. He wanted to be the first to taste your sweet juices but you just looked too perfect with his fingers in your mouth.

You guys stayed as you were for what felt like a few minutes whilst you cooled off, he gave you nothing but sweet kisses before helping you off the bar stool. The alcohol conveniently started to take effect as you hit the ground, your cheeks burning up as you bent yourself over one of the tables in front of you.

Meliodas crept up behind you as you left your exposed ass in the air, your underwear completely doused and on display. You felt his clothed lower half meet yours, his needy cock poking through the layers of fabric separating you both. 

Trailing a hand up your trembling thigh he sniggered, “so was that all you missed? Or did you miss my cock in that pretty little cunt of yours hmm?”. 

You nodded, grinding back on it as he groaned, he needed to be in you so bad, fucking you sensless over this table, but he had to hold out. “I need you to say it, tell me what the princess wants” he huffed, feeling himself growing against your soiled underwear which was now seeping through his own pants.

“P~Please Meli I need you, please fuck me” 

“That's what I like to hear, such a needy princess” he cooed, taking in the sopping sight before him as he slipped your panties down to your ankles. “I’ll fill you up real good okay?” he reassured you whilst sliding down the band of his trousers, you watched as he freed his throbbing cock, biting your lip as you knew what was coming.

He may have been a small guy height wise but he wasn’t lacking in that area by any means, the girth alone always took you by surprise, wondering how your body always managed to accommodate such a thing.

Planting a firm hand on your hip he eased you back, gliding his cock along your slick folds before sliding the tip in. “F~fuck” was all he managed to get out as you inhaled sharply, clawing at the wooden table beneath you, the sheer size of him pushing out all the breath from your body.

“Cmon, you can take it” he assured you, pulling you back onto him, planting himself fully inside you, your walls slowly trying to adjust to it.

“Y~You’re so fucking tight, and so warm” he trembled as you conformed to his size.

You felt the barmans calloused hand travel up the curve of your back to your neck, then across to your jawline. With a slight tug he pulled your head, your needy eyes meeting his as your back arched completely. He placed a single peck on your forgotten lips before helping you back onto the table, “You’re doing so good for me”.

Setting his hands back onto your bare hips he pulled out almost completely before shoving himself back in, making sure to bottom out inside, “s~so big” was all you managed to choke out as he hit your sensitive spot with pure force.

He continued to drive himself in and out of your cunt, each motion being more intense than the last, making sure to hit your sweet spot every time. He knew you both wouldn’t last very long but he was determined to make the most of what y'all had. Hearing your little squeals each time he crashed into you making him crave your words. 

“I wanna hear your voice, I need to hear how good I make you feel” Meliodas panted continuing his strides, his balls swiping your swollen bud with each one, he wanted nothing more than for your moans to ring though the empty tavern. 

“Oh fuck, FUCK baby please, don’t stop” you desperately cried out as he spanked you, it was almost as if that brought your voice back. The sting adding to the intense wave of pain and pleasure swirling around inside your body, he felt so good but it hurt so bad. 

“That's what I wanna hear, cmon now, I wonder how the King would feel knowing that his daughter likes to be fucked like a common whore over a bar table by a little ole Bartender”

“Oh, did you like that? You like being called a whore while I fuck you like this, how unladylike” he grinned as he felt you close around him, so much so that he let out his own moan followed by a few curses. 

As you attempted to lift yourself off the table you caught a glimpse of your reflections in the fogged up window, a familiar dark purple mark drawing in your full attention. The man fucking you was no longer your sweet little barkeep, this was the Demon King's first son in all his glory. 

You now understood why he was being so vulgar and rough, it's not as if you didn’t love this but you were surprised that your neediness would result in him letting his demon side show.

“See what you do to me? I can’t even keep myself in human form” he sighed jokingly spanking you a second time, watching as a dark red hand mark slowly pulled itself to the surface of your ass whilst you let out all types of profanities.

You could feel you were at your limit, the scales were at a tipping point and you knew it would spill over any second. 

“Meli, I’m s~so close”, you choked out between strokes, your walls closing in on his piece as your body gave in.

“Go on, cum on this cock”

That was all the motivation you needed to hear, you felt Meliodas grab one side of the table as you came, your walls tightening causing a temporary halt to his movements, “that's it, paint my cock white”.

Meliodas longed out his thrusts to allow you to enjoy your orgasm, your pussy creaming around him coating his shaft completely. 

Before you had time to catch your breath Meliodas plunged into your sensitive core, your knees buckling ever so slightly trying to regain some strength, “cmon you can hold out for me”.

Tears trickled down your heated cheeks as the guy rutted into you mercilessly, all thoughts and words vanishing with each thrust leaving you a whining mess. “You’re doing so good, so fucking good” he grunted, giving you all the praise you deserved. 

Only you could treat him like this, the only one who ever made him feel this good, he was in a trance when in you.

His cock twitched inside of you as his grunts filled out the room, he was almost at his breaking point and you knew it. “I c~can’t Meliod-”, “uh uh uh, yes you can”, he hushed you, knowing your tired body would give way at some point.

After a few more clashes with your sweet spot he came, smearing your sore walls with his seed as you constricted around him once again, milking his cock clean into your aching cunt. 

The warm liquid was being plugged in by him before he lazily pulled out, “you took everything out of me, good girl”.

You panted as you felt both of your releases ooze out and down your inner thigh, Meli just stood back enjoying watching your body naturally push it out while fixing his pants. 

“F~Fuck you look so hot like that, maybe I should fill you up more often. Could be a bit risky though” he joked, using his forefingers to push it back into you.

Meliodas slipped you into his arms from the table, not letting you use any of the little energy you had left in you to move, leaving your underwear at the table's base. 

He watched as your tear stained cheeks hit his chest, your eyes struggling to stay open, but you did manage to notice that he was back to his regular self.

“S~Sorry about the mess” you yawned, knowing that everyone would be arriving back to the Boar Hat soon, “Don’t worry about that, let's just get you to bed”, he whispered, planting a simple kiss on your forehead.

 His only priority was you, and he knew as long as you were taken care of, everything was fine. He couldn’t care less about the others, so much so that he had failed to mention to you that he may or may not have seen a few sin shaped shadows on the other side of the tavern door moments before you came. But that story would be for another day.

[bts5sosempire]

the tyrant (viii)

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sukuna ryomen x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 5,852 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: old time period, mention of arranged marriage, polygamous marriages, slow-burn yandere, power imbalances, peer pressure, mentions of infertility, etc. 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: "you were the apple of Sukuna’s eyes, the one who brought him solace and everything. The only thing you were incapable of was giving him a child, an heir he wished to spoil like he did to you." 𝐚/𝐧: I AM FINALLY DONE! Went pass the word limit istg. But hope y'all are ready what y/n is planning. 👀 btw, please like ❤️, comment in the "comment" section 📝 for tagging, and reblog 🔄 if you wish. Forgot I edited some parts in different chaps too, so if you see minor changes in them then I was fixing them.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Another few more months with the year ending, and another would mark the end of five years. Despite being bedridden, it had made you uneasy since spending the luxury time doing nothing had made you naught. Yumi and the personal servants who you had personally hired for your inner circle inside the castle had been keeping you posted up about your businesses from the outside. Everything was going well.

Holding the reports over the fire, it lights up when the corner catches, "I'm gonna leave for a bit." You told Yumi, who was alarmed by you.

They started to panic, "You already received your reports saying all is well; you shouldn't move around a lot." Yumi tried to sway your mind, but you had already stood up from your bed and in front of your long mirror.

With your arms stretched out, the personal servants you hired from the outside who knew about your secret come to your aid. They swiftly took off your attire and replaced it with your pseudo outfit. You rarely snuck out, but today you feel rebellious. Staying in bed may get you sick in staying in bed.

You turn around to grab Yumi by the arms and put her in your futon, "Stay here and be good." With a soft smile, you open the door and poke your head out and look around for a particular male valet. Outside, your room was quiet; everyone was prepping for dinner now and cleaning the dining area to feast later. "Where are they?" And right on cue, their eyes met yours when appearing from a corner, and they understood immediately when you nodded at them.

With the quick perception of their view, their feet race towards you. "Everyone is busy; it should take about two hours at most." They informed you with a bow, their gaze not meeting yours.

"Good," coming out of your room, your feet glide across the polished wooden boards as they tail closely behind you. Behind every castle are secret walls; you happened to know it by accident during your research days as becoming Seijuro Hajime. It somehow comes in handy now.

After making swift turns around the halls, you stop right in the middle of a wall that is made of a stack of jagged stone slabs building on top of another; its color that was once in the shade of grey birch is now darkened with tints of green. Its gap of lines was filled with green and yellow moss and heavy, unruly vibes hanging from above. The area you'll frequent quite a lot is an abandoned wing rumored to be a gorgeous garden but is now defiled by aging neglect. The large pond that was filled with colors of Koi fish is now empty with weeds and putrid water that is left behind by the rain. Chip redwoods of a bridge leading to a roofless gazebo that represents the heart and main attraction of the pond. Overall, everything is in bad condition.

Your fingers smoothly ran along every crevice and protruding bump of each slab, and it wasn't until you reached the smaller rock with a small mark that could go unnoticed under the human eyes if no one was paying attention to it. Faintly remembering the details at the back of your head, you push the rock, which caves into your strength.

There was a low rumble from within the walls, and debris fell from above the shaking forces. The wall split into two, and faint mechanic whirring gears could be heard. Torches mounted on the wall spring into life as each illuminates the dark long descending stairs ahead of you. Red wooden beams were worn for ages, also holding the tunnel. A faint smell of wet, sticky residue lingers in the air.

Well, that's ominous. You turn around to face the valet, and they bid you a half farewell, "Stay safe." Nodding at them, they press another adjacent block to the opening block, and the doors come sliding close.

You descend the stairs and follow one pathway until you reach the middle, where it diverges to three; if you remember, you should take the one on the right. It also says in the blueprint that there is a trigger for activating traps; right in the center is a hanging bell above. If the bell is cut loose, all the mechanisms within the walls will run. You eye the old rusted bell that is darkened with a barely color of copper resembling it.

°

"Did you miss me?" Someone throws themselves and wraps their arms around your neck behind you. You place a hand on top of the table to save yourself from toppling forward face-first into the food. The cup of warm tea of amber liquid spilled over your nimble fingers. Their scent entered your nose, and it was the same person you bumped into before. "You know you're very hard to find; I scoured the whole city." Sliding their arms around, that now occupied your arm, they sat beside you as if they were your lover.

Personal space for you is also gone.

You patiently set the cup down and grabbed the rag near the portable stove that warmed the teapot. Wiping away the spilled remnant, you inch away from the clingy woman by loosening your arm, but she only tightens it with a pout. For some reason, you don't think you understand the choice a young woman like her makes to try to be cute to get their way. I mean, you're a woman. That's why you're probably immune to it.

In the first place, you only came out here to be a spectator since, within your report, there should be two high clans born male heirs trekking through the city that Sukuna rules from Yuichi. But you doubt you can complete your task today if you don't do anything.

"It's rude not to look at the person talking to you. Do you know who I am?" They tugged your arm. "My older cousin runs this city, and I could have your head, too, you know?" It looks like it will be hard to get your attention, "My cousin is Sukuna Ryomen."

Upon hearing his name, you tried to remain indifferent, but you only let out a small huff of a laugh. 'This should be interesting to pass the time.' The woman thought throwing her cousin's name around would add weight and make her cave in, but it seemed to be doing the opposite effect. Without her knowing, you decided to amp up a charming facade. "The Sukuna Ryomen?" You turn your head to face her, and the coy smile that split across your lips made the woman frown. Why aren't you scared of her? "Do you know," you stare into those pomegranate eyes that share the same color as Sukuna, "throwing your cousin's name around isn't safe too? You're making yourself a target for-" your eyes roam around the room. A few people were looking your way, and the woman noticed it too and flushed red, "-those to take advantage of."

"If only you looked at me when I asked!" Kiriko fumbles out an excuse, and her face becomes hotter and red.

This makes you decide to toy with the woman. Since she has a relation to your supposed husband, it would be easy to probably get the information right if you knew how to ask. Although you think you wouldn't be able to, it's not hard for you to play around with her. "From what I heard, he isn't a good man."

"What do you know about him?" She bites back.

"He plays favorites with certain people, and there's this special wife he's rather fond of." You quip to get a reaction from her, and it seems to hit the mark. "I saw her a few times, and she's lovely that many of these city and village folks adore her. Got to say she's a woman after my own heart if she wasn't married."

"You shouldn't like her!" Kiriko jealousy spouted, and with a tug of your arm towards her, you thought she might yank it off its socket. "She might be pretending to be nice to make people like her! You should like someone genuine like me!" She declared, and this made you snort another laugh. A woman jumping the horse, it seems. You don't know what she has heard about you, but it is pretty amusing. "What? You don't believe me?" Now she sounds offended.

"It's not that I don't believe you," wanting to tease her more, you swoop in closer to her, "but I don't believe in tarnishing another person just on baseless rumors or what they have or heard against her." Kiriko shrinks back from the sudden closeness. She was quiet, and then you turned your attention away from her. "Sir," you raise a hand to pay for your tab. Once they're near, you drop the payment into their outstretched hands.

Sliding your arm out of their hold, you lighten up your pace with the woman chasing after you. "Wait!" They shouted after you, and you made eye contact with a nearby seller who understood what you indicated. The seller grabbed a bucket of water and poured it onto the ground right after Kiriko was close enough to be after you. Kiriko shrieks out when the lower half of her attire is wet. "Watch where you throw that dirty water, you peasant!"

"Ah, I'm sorry, Miss." They awkwardly apologize.

Kiriko bites the bottom of her lip and looks at your back; you don't even turn around to check if she's alright. She watches your figure disappear into the heads of an endless crowd with a little bit of resentment. She'll make you look her way no matter what since she wants to take you back to her homeland as a spouse by the end of her stay, even if it's by force.

[at a random inn]

"So what's the deal?" You suddenly appeared by Yuichi's side, who got slightly spooked.

"You got to stop doing that," the man told you; he put a hand over his chest. You only laugh and cross your arms before looking below from the second floor. Yuichi saw you spectating two males who stood out like a sore thumb in the crowds of primary cotton colors clothing of grey, dark grey, and brown. "I thought you weren't going to come?"

"And miss this glorious sight?" You humor Yuichi but cut it short too. "I must return to the castle soon, or my covers blow. So who are they?" Motioning the two rich strangers talking lowly to one another, Yuichi tilts his head slightly toward you.

"The one in deep indigo is Totsuwa Iriyu; from my sources that I have people gathered around, his family used to serve the Emperor before they fell from grace. The funny thing is your husband was involved with their family, and there were speculations that he took them off from the Inner Circle of the Emperor Hoshu." Yuichi explains, and you thought that might be something Sukuna would do. "And the one in dark green is Mugetsu Rintoru, and he's that buddy, in the deep indigo best friend too. He also has a problem with your husband too."

"Everybody seems to have problems with Sukuna; I'm unsurprised." Amusement dances across your lips, "How long are they planning to stay?"

"Approximately up to three weeks since they did get an invitation from Sukuna." Now that made you raise an eyebrow.

"Guess invitation isn't what is going in their mind too; nobody comes here in Sukuna's land with no pure thoughts since he is the most sought after when it comes to wealth. And revenge." You then un-latch your arms and pat Yuichi's biceps. "I'll approach them in my time, but keep an eye on them."

°

Your servants all scamper away when Sukuna walks through the hall; they all refuse to look up but still greet him in acknowledgment. But the one that felt like they were getting a heart attack was the one who was your spies. Sukuna had come to pick you up for dinner quite early. They all gave each a look to see who would intercept him. There was a back-and-forth motion of 'No, you' between the servants. But it wasn't until Sukuna positioned himself in front of them they all hesitantly looked up.

"L-Lord Sukuna, Lady (Name) is still resting." One squeaks out in fear; despite being hired by you, they still fear Sukuna.

"Move aside," he commanded.

"She wishes not to be disturbed, My Lord." The same person quickly interjected.

Sukuna clicked his tongue, "Do you wish to die?" He glowers down at them, and they all shrink back. "Now. Move. Aside." Sukuna said each word with heavy and daunting syllables, and the servants sidestepped demurringly. If their heart could leap out of their chest, this would be the best time.

Before Sukuna could open the door, it slid open, and there was you. "What's with all this commotion?" You don't need to look at your servants who tried to stop Sukuna lets out breaths of relief. Sukuna peaks over your head and sees books lying on your table.

Sukuna: "Thought you were resting, no?"

You: "I did; I woke up a while ago."

Without further ado, you try to bypass Sukuna, but he takes good of your hand. You wanted to rip it from his hold without causing much fuss, but he tightened his grip. "You seem well enough now; your colors are back." He took steps with you side by side.

"You are already starting to make me sick," exasperation released from your voice when you tugged your hand again, and Sukuna tutted at you.

"There's that tone that I've missed," he purrs, and if he's successfully getting under your nerves, he's doing a great job. You were clenching your jaws. "I've got something to show you after dining too." From his tone, Sukuna was rather excited; it was only a slight pitch lighter.

[excution field]

A heavy fur coat was draped around your shoulders. You don't understand why he brought you here right after eating. Most of all, the execution ground. You got a hand to cover the smell. Sukuna leans heavily behind you with his arms encasing you; somehow, this feels familiar, like that one day. Once again, you attempted to shrug him off, but it always made him want to be closer to you.

There was fresh blood over the dried blood; even the stench of death couldn't be erased from this place. You never really visited the site; this was the first time in five years you had set foot on the ground where innocent sinners came to die by Sukuna's final resolution. "I like you to be the first to witness something that could lead me to more winning conquest." He said, leaning his head low and letting his lips touch your ears; Sukuna's breath fans over one side of your face. You silently tilt your head to look up at him; questions linger in your eyes.

Sukuna was jittering in excitement, and this was something. You rarely see him like this; he can be proud and loud within his moments. This is something new. He's barely contained.

Sukuna lets himself be away from you, which makes you inwardly happy. "Bring it out!"

It didn't take two frightening retainers to bring out a wooden craftsman box. Sukuna flipped the lid open, and inside, it was presented to be some long metal rod with wood attachments. You were observing not too far away from Sukuna. Sukuna lifts it out of its case and settles an aim. "Get the prisoners too." You recognize that black powder from anywhere when Sukuna pops the lid open and pours it into the opening of the barrel. Then he used a rod to push the powder more profoundly into the narrow tunnel before setting the breech on fire.

"What are you doing?" You ask him; somehow, dread-filled your chest when you saw three people lined up and tied to a thick wooden pool. You can hear their whimpers from where you're at.

"You'll see," was all he said; Sukuna leveled the weapon up and above over his shoulder as he aimed again, then pulled the trigger with a steady finger.

BANG!

The sound made you jump; you instinctively covered your ears in fright with your heart hammering, as did the people far and near to witness. Smoke came from the weapon, but it was pushed away and dissipated into the atmosphere by the wind. What you were looking at wasn't the weapon itself but the person tied to the wooden stake. Their head was blown clean right off, just from this distance where Sukuna stands.

Is this what he wanted to show you? The future? How it's going to be in his hand?

"Did I spook you? Sorry," Sukuna carefully put the weapon back into its case and walked toward you; he took your hands from your ears and slotted them into his own. Your eyes wouldn't move away from the headless corpse; it was stuck wide open, witnessing the scene. It wasn't until you blinked again and pulled your hands back from his hold then your curiosity overtook.

You: "What did you do to them?"

Sukuna: "It's obvious what I did, didn't it?"

You: "Yes, you did. I'm asking what kind of weapon was that."

Sukuna glances over his shoulder before covering the view by stepping to the side when you try to take another look. "I must admit, the Portuguese did come with something this time. It's a Matchlock rifle. It's one of the prototypes, not permanent yet."

"A rifle? You can kill someone from this distance?" Your furrowed brows and contorted face of confusion almost make Sukuna lose composure. This is undoubtedly the first time in a while that you have been interested in something and was willing to talk with him, without sassing back, of course.

"Even further, too," Sukuna confirm. "But like I said, this is just a prototype, not yet decided. I want to talk to the Portuguese and have a room ready for one of their men to stay behind and modify the rifle with me."

You: "Why modify it when it's already deadly enough as it is?"

Sukuna: "Not deadly enough to my liking."

°

You were back to your room and became a sitting duck again. 'If Sukuna could get that weapon, then we're screwed.' When evolution for weapons couldn't get any better or worse, you almost felt worried. Sukuna would indeed be able to conquer land much more and faster, but with that rate, even the death of others he's going to take isn't going to remain stagnant anymore.

More bloodshed and the lives of others will continue to bleed over this land of Japan.

"Get this letter to Yuichi as fast as possible tomorrow during your shift outside; we need information." You fold the letter with deft hands and give it to a male retainer. "Be careful."

"Lady (Name), you have a gift from Sultana Aida." Yumi hands you a box, and it is wrapped neatly. "It was sent earlier when you were in the...field."

You took the box and unwrapped the red sash around it. Sultana Aida has sent you self-care items, especially body oil, and cream. The scent was sweet and fresh, not overpowering enough to give you a headache. The oil inside the clear bottle was in a rich hue of gold, and the body cream was sealed tightly in a jar too. Sultana Aida had a penchant for making perfume and women's essential needs. You met them over a year ago during a foreign meeting.

"Send a gift back to her." You told Yumi, who nodded and went outside to where there is a room where you store all your possession and gifts.

[night time]

There was a fluid snap of your doors being open and closed; the person who always comes into your room as they please is Sukuna himself. Through the bronze mirror, you could see Sukuna in his loose attire, which exposed the skin of his partial chest once he was close enough to where the lantern light could reach. You applied the body cream you received today to your neck before Sukuna settled himself behind you and wrapped an arm around your waist and chin upon your shoulder.

You froze for a quick second. Sukuna closes his eyes in bliss to take in the scent. "This smells nice." Even if he notices your discomfort, he doesn't care at the moment, not right now. He nuzzles his nose closer until it presses against your neck, and the warm breath of his seeps through your skin and into the thinness of your night clothes. You close the lid over your body cream and set it aside.

"What do you want?" Your eyes remain on the mirror, which shows how relaxed Sukuna is; he got you in between his legs as they were propped up to where his knees were bending. There was a deep inhale from him.

"I can't even be here in my own home?" He inquired, "I'm here to spend the night with you." That made you decisively rip his arm off around your waist.

"No, you're not," you shot back and marched away from him to create a distance. "You have plenty of women in your harem who wanted to spend time with you," on the other side of the room, you defiantly look at the man, who gives you a lop side grin.

"I'm not bedding you, not right now." Sukuna restates your thoughts, "Just sleeping side by side." Your face was stoned, but it was enough for Sukuna to tell that you didn't believe him when your brows twitched. There was a 'huh' from you, and you were gunning for the door, and in a flash, Sukuna had you in his embrace again. Another momentarily struggle from you when you start to kick and tell him repeatedly to let you go. "Don't," he whispered huskily into your ear, "I won't do anything, I promise." The man carried you by the waist with both arms and settled down with you in a slump onto the large futon.

Sukuna loosened his arms, and you slithered away to the other side of the bed and got under the cover with your back turned to him. He wanted to push the boundaries, but he wouldn't. Getting under the surface, too, he remains still watching the slope of your curves highlighted by the sheet and your back rising and falling. Sukuna gathered your hair that was pools around the gap in between you both and played with the ends; he let them loop around his forefinger before running a thumb over the silk feeling of it. He then brings the strands to his lips and kisses them to bid good night to you.

Then the light went out.

°

You roll over in bed and bring the blanket under your chin to snuggle in deeper. But why did something feel heavy around you? There was difficulty opening your eyes, and when you did, sleep didn't completely fade away as drowsiness was still evident. If it weren't for the hand patting your back to lull you back to sleep, then you would've done so. "Go back to sleep." With a heavy grave tone that slinks into one of your senses, the haze of sleep washes away. Angling your head up, you see the fondness in Sukuna's eye and push him away in shock with an 'ack,' and Sukuna only rolls onto his back in bed. The man almost laughs at your reaction. Quickly sitting up in bed, you didn't realize how bright the room was when your face was scrunched up and brought the bed sheet up to your chest. Even outside was quiet.

Sukuna almost forgot you make so many faces during sleep and even when you wake up, although not this much. There was a yawn from you as you covered it with both hands, then you swept your hands through your hair. "It's almost near ten if you're wondering." He repositioned himself again on the futon, laying on his side with one leg propped up while he used one hand to support his head under his chin.

"Get out," voice groggy; you stood up from the bed to prepare for the day, but Sukuna reached across the bed and brought you back down.

"You should sleep in more; you look adorable when sleeping." Sukuna teases you, and by instinct, you try to tear your wrist away, but this further fuels him to bring you into his arms and lock you up. Cradling you, he brushes a few strays of hair out. The push and pull you both had is almost desirable to other women in the harem. Sukuna in the morning looks different, nearly too humane for your liking. When he brushes the hair aside, he lingers his hand on the apple of your cheek and brings his lips to kiss the top of your head. Your reaction was like a cat sprayed with water, always struggling. "I almost forgot; good morning to you too." The body scent you had acquired sticks to you so well that it is only what pheromones entirely throughout the night. Maybe this is the scent he likes, besides your natural scent.

"I took some time off from my affairs and decided to tend to you." If you look offended, you do indeed; anything he does for you sounds like an offense. The foreign topic of him trying to soften you up always seems helpless, but Sukuna has time to try everything; a man like him is never out of ideas.

"I don't need you to," glaring at Sukuna, his smiles widened even more, and you took the liberty to push his face away when he closed up again with your other free hand.

[afternoon]

He was serious when he said he wouldn't leave you alone. You wanted to be by yourself, but he made it difficult. Not only had he dismissed everyone who served under you and told them that their service wasn't needed for the day, but he was also hand-hogging you.

Sukuna grabs your hand, and you forcefully pull it away; he does it again, and you repeat it. This childish play continues until he grasps it tightly, forcing you to walk side by side. "Let go." You wiggle your hand, trying not to lose composure, and Sukuna swiftly plays with your fingers and separates them from interlocking his with yours to tighten the hold.

"No," that one-word answer from him had you wish you could disappear into the air magically. "I made a promise, and I intended to keep it." Sukuna brings you even closer as you bump into his arm.

You both were walking to nowhere, only letting your feet guide you and him around the fortress ground. It wasn't until Asuna's head appeared in your view that Danzo's tugged his mother's hand to tell his mother he wanted to visit you quickly.

"Danzo?" You call from a few feet away, and the little boy brightens. He lets go of Asuna's hand and runs toward you at full speed, and knocks himself into your legs. Danzo smiles happily at you, and you use your free hand to pat the boy's head. Asuna greeted you and Sukuna while lingering where she stood. Her eyes trail to your and Sukuna's hands which are interlocked tightly. As a spectator, the scene ahead of her almost makes it seems like a perfect family of three should be if Danzo were yours, even though you were awkward in showing affection to Danzo in front of Sukuna. She kept seeing you side-eying the taller man, who was observing every millimeter of interaction. Asuna's son was very fond of you during the first meeting, even if he had misunderstood you for being a character from a book. Although you don't mind interpretation, you were rather genuine in your exchange with Danzo.

"Have you been good?" You readjust the multiple layers of collars of Danzo's clothing, fixing any creases. Danzo nodded rapidly with a hum.

"Use your mouth," Sukuna spoke up, and you again side-eye him. Danzo's little body tensed up at the sound of his father. You pretended to wiggle your hand in Sukuna's and elbow his side purposely, and he saw a subtle disapproving eye and a frown from you. You were peeved with his tendencies. Why be a grown man picking on a child, especially his own? Even his half-brother was treated almost the same.

Before you can open your mouth to comfort the child, multiple voices enter the yard. Out and emerge from the corner is Eisha with her daughter and Sena accompanying the crown matriarch along with a few minor concubines. Everyone was locking eyes with each other and stopped their idling talking. Eisha (along with Sena) picked up on how close you were to Sukuna, and a knot formed in her chest when the apparent physical contact of hand-holding was the first thing she saw. A tight-lipped wry gambol set on her lips as she greeted Sukuna and ushered her daughter, Eri, to do the same, so the rest followed suit. But her eyes flickered to Danzo's last second; he was also close. Eisha knew that Asuna's son wasn't a thought in Sukuna's mind as he was just one of the many children he sired. Still, it tickles her interest why he was so close when her daughter wasn't granted the same physical closeness but a mere glance.

"Greetings Lord Sukuna/ Father." Then the rest greeted you, besides Eisha, due to ranking. You give the rest acknowledgment with a thin nod and adequately greet Eisha only. "What brings you all out here, Lord Sukuna?" She inquires with pique curio sitting at the back of her mind.

"Thought it would do Lady (Name) good for some fresh air." Then Sukuna turns the question to Eisha, "And what are you doing out here? You are frail and susceptible to the cold, which could worsen your health."

"I'm glad that you ask Lord Sukuna," she then pulls Eri forward in front of her by the hand gently. Almost as if she wants Sukuna to acknowledge the child. "I came out here with Eri for a walk after her studies." There was only a flat 'oh' from Sukuna, and from how he sounded, it lacked interest. Even Sena picks up on the tone, and that pricks a nerve. If Sukuna doesn't even care about her two previous children, then why would he care about Eri at all? Even in your presence, he doesn't seem to show filial affection towards them.

"I see; carry on with your walk then." Sukuna quickly dismissed them, but Eisha wasn't willing to let go.

"If I could, would Your Lordship, Lady (Name), and Concubine Asuna allow us to join your route?" Eisha wouldn't allow you and Asuna to be alone with Sukuna. And behind her back, she made a hand sign which the lower-ranking concubines understood and made a quick excuse to leave the yard. So now that only leaves her, Eri, and Sena. What Eisha did, didn't escape Sukuna's vision; that only made him take a deep and intolerable sigh inwardly.

All he asked for was one day with you without interruption.

For Asuna, she thought this timing couldn't be any worse with the visible tension brewing. She could tell that Sukuna's mood had floundered a bit since, after all, he was only out here to be with you. Then she focused on you, which she could say for once; your mood seemed to be in sync with Sukuna, although you wanted to get rid of him.

°

Two weeks later, two figures on separate horses rode up and stopped by the entrance.

"So this is Sukuna's mighty castle, huh?" Mugetsu's keen eyes search every nook and cranny of the building to see how well the fortress is built. Then there's Totsuwa, who already feels the regret setting in. He only accepted the invitation out of sheer impulsiveness and hatred for the pink hair man, and now the feelings somehow dissolved once he made it to Sukuna's Hell doorstep. It was easy for Totsuwa to imagine himself slaying the demon and reclaiming all his honor, power, and glory that Sukuna had muddled; he even talks significantly about it in his drunken stupor at an inn a week back.

"Don't be a chicken now, Iriyu," Mugetsu teases his best friend, "we might be able to learn more about our enemy." Somehow that doesn't sound comforting to Totsuwa, even when their tone is meant to lighten him up.

Getting off their horses, they handed the reins to a stable boy and looked for someone with deep pink and white hair. It wasn't hard to spot them when they were wearing their white garment. "Hello, Lord Mugetsu and Lord Totsuwa; I am Uraume, Lord Sukuna's retainer." They greet the two men with a proper bow, "If you would please follow me, I'll guide you two."

Mugetsu tapped Totsuwa's arm a few times, "They look pretty," he whispered, eyeing Uraume's back, "if only I wasn't married and they weren't your buddy's retainer, then I would've gotten them."

"Please, for the love of God, shut up!" Totsuwa whispers right back to his friend. "You always say that to every pretty woman you walk by!"

Mugetsu: "I can't help it, though."

[sukuna's office]

"Whoa..." Surprise color Mugetsu and Totsuwa when they saw not just the room but you seated a foot away from Sukuna. Rumors about the favorite wife do hold.

"Stop ogling at my wife," the pink-haired man snapped, brows drawn together into a scowl with the corner of his lip quirking up, and a tongue click could be heard. Sukuna wasn't sure why you insisted on being here; he would let you join any other meetings, but why this one? He doesn't know. There was a smidge of hesitation presenting at the back of his mind even though he tried to push it away logically; it always came back up. However, Sukuna wouldn't let it show. During the last two weeks, you and he had an on-and-off time together, the same usual push and pull. Still, you somehow had inserted yourself into his schedule willingly today with the promise of being interested in politics.

Sukuna had warned you it would be boring to dissuade you from this meeting, but you brought up a point, "You were the one who allowed me to visit your meetings, but now you won't let me?" Point taken, and now here you are. In the logical aspect, this allows Sukuna to spend time with you. Albeit not the way how he wanted it. But he couldn't brush away the nagging thought that it didn't feel right for you to be here.

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[valhallaas]

A Love Like Religion

Coming Down by Halsey

Pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x Joker!reader

Word Count: 4.7k

warnings: SMUT: (18+ minors, dni) dom!jake, brattysub!reader, degradation kink, light orgasm denial, overstimulation, spanking, daddy kink, choking, oral (female receiving), p in v, creampie (wrap it up pals)

Summary: jake likes when you’re mean, but god, you love when he’s meaner.

A/N: it’s me, hi, i’m the problem. i am so in love with this. it is by far the dirtiest thing i’ve ever written and jake absolutely deserves it. i think i might make a part 2, but we’ll see--play it by ear. as always, feedback is so so so appreciated. i hope you guys enjoy it!

While not a lot of people would agree, there’s something about being in Lemoore. You go one way and there’s the mountains, you go the other and you know you’ll hit ocean water. On top of the Central Valley being one of the top agricultural producers of the country. That being said, there isn’t a whole lot to do.

Well, that isn’t exactly true. There is something. Someone.

Hangman’s grin splits his face when he sees you enter the common room. His eyes light up like the fourth of July. It sends a heat through you, makes the muscles in your lower stomach clench tight. You haven’t seen him in months, almost a year. Seeing him here when you didn’t even know he’d be has your mind spinning. You feel dizzy, slightly sick. Your face must show it because his smile loses some of its luster, but the cockiness remains. Of course it does. It’s Jake fucking Seresin we’re talking about.

“Well well well, as I live and breathe. Nice to see you, Joker.”

But is it really? A lick of betrayal runs up your spine. If you could even call it that. Really what you feel is jealousy. You feel scorned. You feel like you’ve been fucking cheated on and it’s eating you alive. You can’t bring yourself to play his games. Maybe when you pull yourself together. When you can face him and there isn’t a stinging sensation at the back of your eyes. You’re a big girl, you’ll figure it out.

Your gaze lingers, burns into him, your eyebrow twitches when he shifts under your unyielding gaze. He does it because it’s not like you. Or it is, just not in public. Your lips shift, and you can feel it. The tension pouring out of you, you bask in it. Turning from him, without acknowledging him is going to light a fire you’re sure would scorch you later. A group of familiar faces greet you on the other side of the room. Time passes slowly. You’re keeping yourself here, but you’re not sure why. It isn’t like he won’t find you wherever you are.

Everyone at the table is bursting with laughter. It’s friday night and everyone is gearing up to head out for drinks. You cringe at the idea. Someone had mentioned Fresno and you’d rather die. It’s time to head in. A bottle of wine. A trashy romcom. You’ll be fine. You always are.

“Joker, are you coming?”

Uh, what? You weren’t really expecting them to want you to come. Digging your teeth into your bottom lip, you go to respond before someone else does for you.

“Nah, she ain’t going.” You glare at the side of Hangman’s head.

“What do you mean?” Hyena asks, looking between the two of you.

“Do you know why Joker got her name?”

You cannot stop the eyeroll that overcomes you. You want to stab him in his perfect fucking face with a pencil, snap it off in his eye.

“Uh, because she’s a fucking hoot?” Malibu says from behind you.

“No. Because she doesn’t know how to take a joke. She’s got a permanent stick up her ass.”

Your hands clench and unclench at your sides. Yep. That’s what they say. You follow the rules. You don’t cave under peer pressure. If someone says something that’s not funny, you’re not laughing just to make them feel better. People called you abrasive, stuck up, a bitch. Or in the words of Jake Seresin, a fucking brat.

You nod your head, not disagreeing. Hangman’s eyebrows shoot upwards, clearly surprised. Shifting, you rest your elbow on the arm of the couch, hand in palm as you level a searing gaze at him. A gaze that tells him you know something that he never thought you’d find out. With a small tilt of your head, your lips pull up in a shy smirk.

“Don’t talk about my ass, bagman. But, speaking of call signs, I heard you went on a date recently.” His eyes widen, grip tightening on the back of the couch. “Heard it didn’t go too well. Heard you couldn’t make Banshee live up to her name.”

You can’t hide the fire in your eyes, the anger in your voice. You’re dripping with accusations. The tone you're taking on is a warning. A demand. You’re begging. The girls around you burst into giggles. Checkmate. They add on to your taunt. Talking about how he can’t get it up. Big talk for such a little man. The both of you know that it’s not true, but they didn’t need to know that. You aren’t an ‘established relationship’ it’s more of when you happen to be together you’re together. It’s been that way for years—since you graduated from top gun. The stinging sensation is back. You blink, swallowing before standing to your feet. You don’t meet anybody’s gaze, keeping your head down, wiping your hands against your pants, dying to get rid of the sudden clamminess.

“Anyway,” you say lightly, pulling the girls’ attention back to you. “I’m heading home.”

“Jo, you need to come out with us,” Malibu begs, her hand catching your wrist before you could pull away. “We need to get you laid.”

A  snort leaves you, eyes widening at the idea of a stranger touching you. Instantly you yank yourself away from her. “Yeah, no. Thanks, but no thanks.”

Hyena and Malibu grumble, but leave it. They’re suspicious. Never have you gone home with someone from a bar. Never have you woken up to a stranger sleeping next to you. Your shoes were not made for the walk of shame. Giving them a warm smile, you meet Hangman’s gaze when you turn and your smile brightens. His expression is stern, eyes hard, teeth clenched. With a wink you say your goodbyes and head home.

You like California. Wish the coast was closer, but this is fine. You live an hour off base. Separation from work and home, even if it means there's a commute. The sun is just setting when you finally get to the small little house with the white picket fence. It’s a cliche, but you don’t mind. Going about your routine, you light your candles, turn on the two lamps in your living room. You’ve got music playing on low, you’re walking around your kitchen to prepare dinner with a glass of wine in hand. It’s the first time you've been home in months. It’s the first time you’ve let yourself relax, but there was no release. The tension was still there. It had nothing to do with the mission. The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board echoes through your mind, a reminder of what you’re doing. Setting the knife down you realize your hands are shaking.

It’s Jake. Of course it is. He’s the only person who has ever been able to put you on edge like this. He only spoke two sentences to you. But it’s his presence. It’s domineering, it’s controlling, it’s cocky and you love every second he’s around you. Even if sometimes you wish you could smack him upside the head. Like right now. You’re angry and you’re hurt. It’s eating you up inside because you’ve given yourself up. Given everything to him and–god, you’re such a fool to pay that price. You want more, always want more of him. That doesn’t mean he wants or needs you.

** You’re ringing out your hair when you hear the front door open. Heavy footsteps move throughout the house, creaking on loose floorboards. Did you have the energy for this right now? You may have had one too many glasses of wine. Meaning, you drank the whole damn bottle. Pulling a shirt from one of the drawers, you glance at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are red rimmed, cheeks blotchy. Sighing, you go to pull the worn shirt over your head.

“Don’t even think about it.” You lift your gaze to meet Jake’s in the mirror. Your eyebrow twitches as his teeth clench, not missing his wandering eyes. “I have plans for you, you fucking brat.”

You snort. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You like to talk don’t you, Jo?”

“Talk is cheap, and word travels fast. Faster than you thought it would, apparently.”

“You jealous Joker?” Jake says with a growing smirk.

Rage burned hot and heavy in your chest. Your hands shake and your lip snarls. If he wants to fucking fight, you’ll bring a goddamn war.

“No, not jealous.” A fucking lie. It tastes bitter on your tongue. “Wouldn’t want to feed your ego.”

Your body relaxes when you feel the brush of him against your back. The bedroom isn’t all that big. Jake stands behind you, invading your space, warming you up, and swallowing you whole. There is nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. You're at his mercy, one hand clenching the shirt–his shirt from a long past concert, and your other hand on the dresser. Your knees wobble, threatening to buckle at any given moment.

“I missed you, sweetheart.”

You smile at the nickname. “I bet you did.”

His hand comes down on your naked ass cheek with sudden force. “Brat.”

You grin at him through the mirror. If you weren’t as close as you were, you’d have missed the way his breath hitched. You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips. You’re exhausted. When he grabs at your hips, you know you’re done for. Your eyes shut when his hand pulls your hair to rest over one shoulder. Another smack to your ass has them snapping open. You meet his eyes in the mirror. A warning.

Only you were without clothes. It makes you feel a little vulnerable. But then Jake pushes himself even closer. He’s no longer in his khakis. He’s in sweats and a t-shirt. You can feel him breathing, his chest warming your back. It’s when he pushes his hips against you—you can feel him. All of him. It makes your head fall back against his chest.

A hand trails down your side while the other moves to your chest. You slip out a whine when a nipple is taken between his expert fingers. His hands on you is the best feeling in the world. The heat coming from him is intoxicating. A hum rumbles from him when his fingers finally find your core, slipping between your folds. You’re completely soaked. You’ve been this way since you saw him in the common room. You were really that weak. Your breath locks in your throat when he slips a digit in.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his accent tainting his words. “Fuck, sweetheart.”

You whine again, you can’t help it. You push your hips back into him, arching your back. It’s truly amazing how desperate and needy he can make you. One of these days you’ll have to time it. He pulls his finger out only to push it back in with another. He does this, warming up your body, until you’re moaning, your own hand wrapping around his wrist. You can feel his grin against the back of your neck. You can’t stop your hips from grounding down on his hand. Desire has taken over. Jake has left your nipple, hand now wrapped around your throat, holding you hostage to watch yourself in the mirror. He grunts when you clench around his fingers. You’re close, too close.

“Daddy,” you breathe, fingers digging into his arm.

“There she is. There’s my sweet girl. Not the fucking brat I’ve been dealing with today. Do you want to come, baby? Hmm? Should I let you? Let you gush all over my fucking hand, and then maybe I’ll think about lettin’ my cock sink into you? Does that sound good?”

If you have him whisper dirty things in your ear all hours of the day, you’d die happy. It’s only moments later when the band is about to snap that he pulls his hand completely away from you. Your core throbs with the sudden emptiness. Meeting Jake’s stare in the mirror you see just how blown out his eyes are. His grip tightens around your throat before he lets go. Really, you should have seen it coming. It annoys you because you only want more.

You can feel him moving behind you. The soft sounds of his clothes hitting the floor. Your whole body shivers in anticipation. Heat pulses between your legs. You love the idea of him breaking you open. It’s fucked up, and dangerous, but it warms your belly all the same. His lips pink and full, he bends down and kisses right between your shoulder blades. Traveling up your spine, over your shoulder, he digs his teeth in where it meets your neck. You don’t miss his smirk when you moan.

“Are you ready to start being nice, sweetheart?”

“I’ve been nice.”

His hand cracks hard across your ass. “Wrong answer.”

“Fuck, Jake, you be nice.”

Roughly, he spins you around and pins you against the dresser. His chest is heaving, breathing ragged enough to match your own. He’s got a slight crazed look in his eye. One you only see when it’s just the two of you. Slowly a smile creeps on your lips. Your nose wrinkles as you stare up at him.

“This is me being nice.” You tilt your head, shaking it at him. Jake was a lot of things, but nice wasn’t one of them.  “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” He raises a brow.

“Yes daddy.”

Jake kisses your forehead before pushing you towards the bed. You go without argument. Following back into your soft sheets, elbows holding you up.

“C’mon pretty baby. Open your legs.”

You do, slowly, testing his patience. Jake doesn’t say anything, only watches. His eyes never move from your pussy. Open, vulnerable, exposed. He takes a few steps forward, his hard length bobbing with each step. You eye it for a moment, a small one. Not sure what hell you’d pay if he caught you staring. You gasp, body slightly jumping when there’s a sudden slap against your center. Glancing up at Jake to see him with a malicious grin. Fuck. You mewl and writhe at the sting of the slap. He just chuckles darkly, relishing in the sounds you make as you squirm beneath him. Jake moves up the bed, his lips finding their way to your skin. Biting, licking, sucking a trail up your tender thighs, teasing you.

“Such a pretty pussy, sweetheart.”

A squeal escapes you when he drags his teeth over your clit. You haven’t even orgasmed yet but he’s pushing you towards overstimulation. He’s purposely driving you crazy, but god, do you like when he’s mean. You wiggle your hips as his head dips lower, feeling the warmth of his breath ghosting over your core. You instinctively lift your hips up, exposing your dripping cunt to him. You hear him hum in satisfaction as you moan and buck in desperation for his touch.

“Such a needy little thing” he taunts, placing hot kisses to the back of your thighs, just below the curve of your ass. “You want the me to fuck you with my tongue hmm? Is that what you want?”

“God, yes.”

He laughs. “Heaven can’t help you now, sweetheart. It’s just you and me here.”

You groan as he licks from your throbbing core up to your clit, not lingering for you to get any kind of satisfaction. “Come on baby, you can do better than that.”

“Your mouth, your fucking fingers, I don’t care.”

He sits up suddenly, placing another sharp slap to your ass, making your skin sting. You were sure you’d have welts the shape of his hand tomorrow.

“Then beg for it” Jake commands, his hands running up and down your thighs, his fingers getting tantalizingly close to your cunt before he starts moving away again.  

“Please” you whine, hands tightening in the sheets. You want to touch him. Knowing him though, he’d pull back and away from your reach. Making this a lot more torturous than it was already.  “Please, touch me. Use your tongue, your hands, anything. Please, daddy, please just touch me”.

He sighs, moving back to hover over you. “So needy, sweetheart. What do you want? Do you even know?”

“I know that I want you.”

 That’s the truth. You say a lot of shit when he’s got you under him. You’d still say it if he bothered to ask you in broad daylight while up in the clouds. But he hasn’t, so you keep it to yourself. A well kept secret that makes your chest ache.

“Joker,” you look at him, fixating on how his normal green was just a thin ring around black. “Are you going to let me have it? Or am I going to have to fucking take it?”

You smile. “You can have whatever you want. All you gotta do is ask.”

Jake gives you a breathtaking smile, his hand lifting to your face, thumb running along your cheekbone. Your breath catches. It’s a tender touch, a gentle moment. “My good girl,” he says softly. He’s reminding you. This is not punishment, this is worship. “I think I'd like to pray.”

“Wha—”

Seeing Jake on his belly, face level with your cunt has you whimpering. You can see him smirking, his hot breath fanning over you with every exhale.

“I haven’t even touched you yet, baby.” The pet name has your head falling back against the pillows.

“So fucking needy, huh baby?” He questions, hands moving up over your thighs, thick fingers digging into them so tight you’ll have bruises to show for it. “Can’t help but be a bratty little whore, huh? I know why you do it sweetheart. Whatever gets my attention.”

He runs his nose over your center, taking in a deep breath. His hands tighten on your thighs, as if he’s stopping himself from diving right in. You shudder, squeezing your thighs together only for him to pry them apart. You swallow, breathing shallow, taking him in as his large hand lifts one of your legs to rest on his shoulder. You’re a pathetic pile of putty in his hands. You can’t help but wonder if he knew he could mold you into anything he wanted. He could straight out ruin you and you’d thank him. But that’s the point, isn’t it? Your whole relationship. You give and he takes. Jake is good, great even, at what he does. He’ll never take what he can’t give in return.

His hand trails up your leg, rough calluses catching on your skin. There is no buildup, his finger running through your folds, a hum as he collects it before sticking the digit in his mouth.

“Look at all that. So fucking sweet, baby. Your cunt tastes so much better, though, isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” It comes out in a sigh.

“Yes what?”

You clench around nothing. The forcefulness of his voice. You moan at his words. He gave nothing else before diving in. You moan, your head falling back against the pillows again. Only to lift it when he smacks your thigh.

“Joker,” he warns.

You simply nod, biting back your whimper. His tongue is flat as it makes its way through your folds. He’s done this hundreds of times, pushed you over the edge so many times. Every time feels like the first time. A whimper escapes you.

“Daddy,” you murmur, hips lifting to roll against his face.

“Sweetheart.” He replies voice thick with amusement. You squirm at the feel of his breath against you. His thumb rolls your clit in circles as his tongue parts your folds. He slips a digit in before replacing it with his tongue.

You grind yourself on his face, his nose catching against your clit. You whisper his name, it falls from your lips like a hymn. He holds you open and licks up the seam of your sex, you jerk, knee barely grazing his cheek.

“Easy, Jo.”

He strokes and teases your pussy. Switching off between his thick fingers and his tongue. He has you quivering, moans spilling out of you. The sounds of you clenching around his fingers, his tongue are obscene and he fucking loves it.  You feel like you’re in the sky. Head in the clouds and you aren’t sure you’re ever coming back down. You move with every flick of his tongue. Heel digging into his shoulder when he sucks your clit into his warm mouth. It almost sends you over.

“It’s been months, baby. Months since I’ve tasted you. Months since I’ve had you spread out like this. I’ll tell you a secret: I thought about it every night. Didn’t fall asleep once without thinking of you.”

You’re on the edge. Just a push. A simple push and—his words hit you and it’s like being doused with water. He has no idea about you. It’s a crack in your armor, a splinter in your chest. Fuck, when did your feelings for him get so deep? How did things get so messed up? A sob escapes you, tears falling down your cheeks in burning trails. Jake slows down, noticing you’re in your head, but not really there with him. Not how you should be. He goes to ask you what’s wrong when he realizes you’re crying. Instantly he’s on high alert. Jake will fuck you through a lot of things, but he will not do this while you’re crying. You’ve never cried during sex.

Rough fingers catch your tears as they fall. You shake your head, not wanting him to touch you. He wants to understand, you know he does. How can you tell him like this, in the middle of all this? You’re a fucking mess and it only proves what you already knew. You cannot function without him. He calls your name, soft but stern. Green eyes take you in, nothing but concern coloring his face.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You sigh, looking away from him. “I lied.”

“About what.”

“About being jealous.”

Jake’s lips twitch. “I know.”

“I shouldn’t be,” you whisper, “that’s our deal, right?”

“Our deal…” He sighs, coming face to face with you. “Sweetheart. All I did was take her out to dinner. I think she expected more, but I couldn’t because all I could think about was you.”

Biting your lip you look at him again. “But why, Jake? Why would–”

“Fitz. I heard Fitz took you out.”

Oh for the love of god. The fucking Navy were a bunch of high school girls. Gossiping like no one’s business. Finally, you lifted a hand and ran it through his blonde locks, something you’d been dying to do all night. “Oh, Jake. We are both so stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“Fitz took me out for my birthday. A whole group of people were there, including Rooster and Phoenix.”

If you could take a picture of his face, you would have. Slowly a smile spreads over his face, and it’s becoming one of your favorite things. You love the way he looks at you. You’re pretty sure you love him, but you’re not going to be admitting that tonight.

Jake bumps his nose with yours. “You’re my girl, sweetheart. Only you. It’s been that way for a long time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Do you want to continue?”

You lean forward and bite right where his shoulder meets his neck, making him hiss in pain. “Yes daddy.”

“Fucking brat.”

You can’t help but laugh. You’re lighter than you have been in a long time. You feel free. You feel like an idiot because it came to a head while you were getting eaten out, but beggars can’t be choosers. Your laughter gets cut off with Jake’s tongue. He’s returned back to your cunt and is going at full force. Saliva is pooling on the sheets below you along with your arousal. Three fingers pump into you, curling into that spongy part over and over. There is no stopping. Jake’s brought you right to the edge and he’s sending you over without a care in the world.

“Oh my god,”

Jake groans against you, feeling your release. You clench tightly on his fingers as he fucks them into you, wanting to take everything you’ve got to give. He keeps up his pace, helping you ride it out. As your hips slow down he replaces his fingers with his tongue, his mouth lapping at all that you’ve spent while his thumb flicks at your clit.  

“No, no. It’s too much.”

“Come on, be a good girl. I know you’ve got another one for me.”

It should embarrass you that he’s picked up on it. A chronic people pleaser, you bask in praise. His praise is far and between. Between the nit picking and the brat calling. Jake hardly gives praise to anyone and it shoots straight to your core. You’re desperate, small whimpers falling from your lips, your cunt pulsing and aching. It’s all burning heat before it melts into pleasure.

You're dripping down your thighs. You know it’s all over his face. He catches your eye when he pulls away, a grin tilting his full lips. A gift just for you. He’s shining with your release. Leaning forward he catches you by surprise and kisses you. Thrusting his tongue into your mouth, you moan at the taste of you. As quickly as it started it was over.

He swiftly moves to his knees, a hand slides across your ass, slapping you just hard enough to leave a red handprint behind as he thrust deep, bottoming out. It’s a silent scream, no sound leaving you. He’s big, too big, and he’s filling you up to the brim. It hurts, a pain that you will never get enough of. Your knuckles turn white with each rough, hard thrust. Jake slides a hand up your stomach, between your breasts so his hand can wrap itself around your throat. He loves to watch you come undone around him, and he’ll never let you forget it either. Your cheeks are flushed, pupils blown with lust, and lips parted as each of your clipped breaths turn into whimpers.

“Fuck,” he grits, hand tightening, cutting off a little more air, “feel good.”

You stare back at him, feel as he moves to kneel on one knee, the angle shifting somewhere deeper inside of you. His teeth dig into your skin again, this time leaving bruises behind. It makes you whine. Little secrets that litter your skin. He thrusts harder, rougher until your hand is wrapped around his wrist trying to hold you steady. He’s fully claiming you. Cock punching into the deepest part of you. Your head is empty, full of nothing but Jake. Words are pouring out of you, but you couldn’t understand what you were trying to say even if you wanted to. Whatever it is he wants to hear. Whatever keeps him close, keeps him inside of you. It’s been so long, too long and you honestly believe you’ll die if he were to leave.

“Daddy, I–” you're cut off by a whimper when he reaches that hard to reach spot deep inside you. Over and over again, you feel it coming, your orgasm is going to come crashing down and you’re ready to bask in it.

“You going to come on my cock, baby?”

“Yes! Yes daddy. Please, please, daddy. Don’t stop. More, more, Holy fuck,”

You come on his cock like clockwork, and when you fall back into your bed sheets, your body trembles, heaving desperately for air. Jake groans, pulling you up until you’re flush against him. His lips meet yours in a messy kiss, bucking his hips harder until he’s chasing his high right over the ledge with you.

“Good girl,” he praises, letting go of your throat. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Your breath is a little ragged. You're sweaty, exhausted, and in need of another shower. You smile when Jake pulls out and lays down next to you, pushing your hair out of your face. There was never a sacrifice when it came to Jake. Hangman. It's as easy as breathing, you just need to know how to let go.

“You good, sweetheart?”

“I’m good.” You look over at him, trace a finger over his bottom lip. “I did miss you, you know.”

He smiles, kissing the pad of your thumb. “Yeah, I know.”

[hournites]

for the best friends to lovers prompt- "did that kiss mean anything to you"

hope you are doing well!! i love your writing 🫶🏻

Soundless Spin

“You start.” 

Doja Cat blasted through Cindy’s speakers, fancy chandeliers overhead shaking from the noise as Rick eyed the offensive Bud Light in front of him. It pained him that Blue Valley, Nebraska couldn’t shake the 20th century out of its roots–Somehow, even amidst 2020 billboard charts, Jackbox games, and Tiktok trends, the only activity collectively agreed upon tonight was spin the bottle. 

“Do I have to?” 

“Yes,” said Cindy, already bored at how long he was taking. Why was she facilitating this nonsense–she hates half of the school. That said, Rick also didn’t understand how they scored invites to her party. Or why the girls wanted to go. They might have not been at each other’s throats anymore with the ISA discontinued, but it wasn’t exactly like they were close friends. Since the JSA recovered the true Sylvester’s pickle brain, Rick stopped applying logic in his life when he didn’t need to. Crowded between drunk teens sat in a seance approved circle, everyone waited on Rick to start the game he had assumed was a joke. 

“No, you don’t have to,” said Beth reassuringly from across the room, though Rick suspected the second it was her time she’ll nope out. She looked around the group of classmates, sober as a judge. “Please remember that kissing should always be consensual!” 

Cindy rolled her eyes. “It's not that serious, Dr. Chapel Jr.” She shrugged in that nonchalant way before she stirred the pot. “Rick might land on Cameron, for all we know.”

Yolanda facepalmed. “We’re supposed to be encouraging Rick, not giving him the ick.” 

Cameron shot Yolanda an icy look. She raised a brow in retaliation.  “I said what I said.”

Courtney, nestled beside him, placed an ineffective hand on his knee. To Rick, she chanted, “C’mon! Spin, spin, spin, spin!” 

Everyone joined in. 

“Spin! Spin! Spin!” 

“Fine. Fine!” he shouted loud enough to be heard, blowing hot air out of his mouth. “I get it!” He raised both hands in the air to get some of Cindy’s cheerleading friends to stop hollering, their enthusiasm giving him minor concern. “I’m doing it. I’m doing it.” 

The empty beer bottle spun tightly around their sitting circle–Rick anticipated disaster, regretting his cave to peer pressure the second his hand lifted away. Anyone but Mahkent. Anyone but Mahkent, he nearly prayed in mounting desperation. It whirled around Yolanda on his right, Becky Sharpe, Cindy and the cheerleaders, tipped past Jenny Williams, slowed by Courtney, and crawled past Cameron until it hesitantly landed on Beth. 

Rick jerked his eyes up, meeting her gaze. His heart stopped for, like, a minute. He’d been so caught up in who would be the worst option, he hadn’t had enough time to think what would happen if the bottle landed on one of his friends.

What the hell should I do?  

Courtney covered her mouth to hide her giggles. “Wow! Must be fate.” 

“Girlie,” Yolanda whisper-mimed, shaking her head and zipping her lips. “Shut up.” 

It didn’t matter–Rick easily ignored Courtney cajoling them six ways to Sunday because he couldn’t hear her. The music distorted around them as he tried to pick up on Beth’s cues. 

He almost asked her, should I spin again? 

Then her lips lifted into a small cheeky smile. Of course, Beth wouldn’t have let herself play if she minded getting a few kisses from this game considering she was the one reminding everyone about consent. And, he came to realize, this would be his first kiss sober. It scratched an itch in his brain to think it would be with Beth. They could laugh it off later. 

“Well?” some dude huffed, impatient. “Are you kissing or not?”

Rick cleared his throat. “Beth, are you sure…?” 

But she was already making her way towards him, answering his question. 

Okay. Welp. We’re doing this. 

Instead of shuffling into the middle of the circle like a circus act, Rick let her come to him. Once she was in arm’s reach, he reached forward, hauling Beth into his lap to move her away from a sticky beer spill. It was easier, more comfortable—Less of a spectacle, this way. 

“Oof.” She laughed breathlessly as he rearranged their limbs. “Hi there. This is close.” 

“Sorry,” he said, embarrassed, ready to shove her off him if she didn’t like it. 

Beth touched his hand. “Don’t apologize.” She was right, this was so close. He could count every curly eyelash of hers behind those dark frames.  “Did you know this only had a 7% probability of happening?” 

Rick inwardly rolled his eyes at her math brain guzzling out computations at a time like this. Why wasn’t she nervous? “I did not. It’ll just be a peck, okay?”

Her brown eyes brightened in the dim party room and she nodded. “Sure!”

Rick cupped her jaw, cautious to be gentle, then tipped her chin up so he could lean down and kiss her.

She was ready for it. She closed her eyes and looped her arms around his neck, meeting his quick peck with another kiss before he could end it. It caught him off guard when Beth let out a tiny sigh. 

It felt good. Right. Rick couldn’t pull himself away. 

She pushed herself up in his lap and then there was more. Rick’s thumb pressed against her cheek. He hadn’t had anything to drink since they first walked in, but his mind went warm and fuzzy, like that first sip of alcohol down his throat. Everything slowed around them. He didn’t know what they were doing or cared where they were, he just wanted the soft way Beth’s body pretzeled against his, her hand now moving, exploring down his neck to rest over his chest. It wasn’t rushed, or unsure, Beth was taking and he was giving or maybe it was the other way around. She let out another hum, and then there was another long lazy kiss, hypnotic enough for Rick to nearly believe that he had a soul she could’ve kissed out. 

“Woah, okay! Ew? Too much.” Jenny W clapped her hands. “Time’s up! Spin again!” 

He blinked out of the trance. “What?” 

She gave him a shy smile. “That was nice.”  Beth slid herself out of his lap seemingly unaffected nor aware of how she had just turned his life upside down.

 Nice? That was—Okay. Apparently the most intimate moment in his 18 years was just “nice.” Rick was fucked. 

“Yeah,” he croaked out, scared that if he spoke further his voice would crack, the tension between them was still palpable. Say something. You have to say something.

He focused on forming a coherent sentence out of his mouth. They should leave. To do what? He had no idea (yes, he did–her lips, that touch, the perfume on her neck, he needed it memorized). He also needed to process what the hell just happened, and, not surprisingly, Beth was very good at analyzing weird shit that happens to them–but not usually to both of them at the same time. 

“You heard me, right? It’s your turn now.” Jenny W thrust the bottle into Beth’s hand, not giving Rick the option to get a word in. 

“Oh,” Beth said. “Sorry!” 

He watched in stunned silence as she returned to her spot and wordlessly spun again. It landed on a guy from Ms. Woods’ calculus support group and jealousy took a hold of him with an iron fist. 

He got up and left, announcing he needed a piss, though the terrible excuse was luckily drowned out by the latest remix. Unable to stomach Beth kissing someone else, the rest of the night blurred like watercolors on a canvas. 

Nothing except the bleeding dark pinks of her lips dripped into every corner of his mind, the browns of her soft eyed stare, haunting his sleep. He suffered through the blue phantom-pain of Beth in his lap. The way she moved in it and how boldly he pulled her to him without second-guessing what he was doing. 

What was he doing? 

~.~ 

“Assuming the calculations from the goggles are correct, we would have six hours in the pocket dimension.” Beth wrote notes to follow her thinking on the Pit Stop whiteboard with a green marker, her goggles projecting a diagram. “That’s one hour in our dimension, meaning hypothetically your hourglass won’t time out.

“Got it,” Rick agreed without understanding, miserably distracted by the fact this was his first moment alone with Beth since Spin the Bottle. Thick tension returned with a vengeance. He could taste how bad he wanted her to like him. Every time she caught his eye Rick was certain he’d need a fire extinguisher to douse his hot heart within him. He sat on the table, his fingers tapping anxiously against the wood surface, really wanting to kiss her again. 

She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head like she didn’t quite believe him. Rightly so. He didn’t believe him, and that posed a risk for the JSA tomorrow. “Any questions, then?” 

“I don’t think so.” 

Beth folded her arms. “Really?” 

“Fine. Yeah. One.” 

She looked relieved. “Let’s hear it.” She turned around and wrote QUESTIONS on the board and set out to underline it.  

“Did that kiss mean anything to you?” 

Beth’s impeccable marker line careened to a crooked left. Slowly, she turned around. “That has nothing to do with our pocket dimension trip.” 

“You asked if I had any questions.” 

“Yes, you did. Fair enough.” She sighed in a way Rick couldn’t tell was wistful or annoyed. “Our kiss, you mean?” 

“Yes, our kiss.” Even calling it a kiss, as he had in his brain the last few days, was very modest. There was not just one kiss. There were several kisses. It was an experience. 

“Of course it meant something to me,” she said primly. The marker cap pressed into her inner-palm. “That was my first kiss.”

“That’s it?” 

She glanced away, fixating on the antiquated mugshots of Per Degatron’s goonies, finally starting to look as nervous as Rick felt. “What more do you want me to say? It was nice.”

He almost winced—There she went again. It was nice. For a girl with her vocabulary, that wasn’t promising. 

“It was a nice kiss,” she continued in his stretched silence, “and I’m glad I had it with you. I didn’t think the bottle would ever land on me, or that I would want to play until they made you go first. I’m pretty sure I went into it wanting to watch.” 

He furrowed his brows, trying to read between the lines. If she didn’t want to play unless he went first, then why did she continue with her turn afterwards? She must’ve used him to boost her confidence and practice kissing, not realizing he’d read into it so much. Now Rick felt stupid. 

“You’re hurt,” she said. He was about to argue, but there really wasn’t any point. Not when his voice would probably crack as he denied it. He cursed the accuracy of the mood reader still embedded in her goggles. Sensing his lingering wariness at the object above her hair, she took the goggles off and laid them aside. An offering that she wouldn’t leverage her emotional advantages in this conversation. She used the stool to step up onto the table, taking a seat next to him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you how you feel.” 

“It’s okay.” 

“It doesn’t have to be okay. Wasn’t it just a game?”

His hand inched closer to hers until their fingers brushed. She leaned against his side. He felt a strange catch in his breath as the warmth of her closeness untied some of the knots in his stomach. Beth was beautiful and sweet, and always bursting with compassion. How could he pretend he wasn’t falling for that? “It was supposed to be.” 

She looked up at him. 

“But..it wasn’t.” He met her stare and swallowed hard. “It wasn’t for me.” He dragged a hand over his forehead in disbelief he managed to say it out loud. He summoned the strength to keep going. “It wasn’t a game. It wasn’t just nice, it was…I didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want it to stop. I felt like we clicked in that moment and I woke up from sleepwalking through feelings I have for you.”

Beth didn’t say anything, like his confession knocked the wind out of her. “You like me?”

He groaned softly. “It’s embarrassing, I know.” 

“No! No, no it’s not,” she objected, squeezing the hand nearest to hers, but Rick didn’t think he could handle her breaking his heart so softly. 

“Can you just tell me if I need to get over you?” 

“I’m not doing that.” Beth sat up straight. “I called the kiss nice because I didn’t know how else to explain how I felt. I was inexperienced and surprised at myself. I won’t lie, the thought of kissing you excited me, but I thought that was because I trust you, so it would’ve been an easy way to get my first kiss out of the way.” 

Rick started to smile, thinking back on what she said. “You calculated that 7% chance.” 

 “I did, and then that happened. I didn’t know if that’s how kissing always felt like or if it was because it was you. So I kept playing and I had a few more turns after you left, okay, but none of those kisses were like ours. But I knew you hated the game, left right after kissing me, and intended to only give me a peck,” she repeated the last fact with fake quotation marks. “I was the one that got carried away. I was the one that was embarrassed. It was easier if I pretended it didn’t happen so I wouldn’t make things weird.” 

It was such a relief to hear her say that they were on the same page. “So what do we do now?” 

“Well, first, we need to go over the pocket dimension because I know you were not paying attention, which I thought was because you were feeling uncomfortable but now I think it is because you were staring at my skirt.” 

“Holy shit.” Rick scratched behind his neck as heat crawled up his face. This was perilous and exhilarating new ground. He liked Beth and she knew it. He was attracted to her and she could feel it. “Uh, I plead the fifth?” 

Beth laughed and flashed him that same flirty grin from the party. “But as for right now?” Rick knew he was either in for trouble or a really, really good time. “I can think of a few ideas.”

She unearthed the green marker from her pocket and gave it a spin.

[abitofafreudmoment]

Alright so. I've caved.

I have caved to minor peer pressure and I guess I have tumblr know

So yeah. That's fun I guess. I'm going to be brutally honest and just say that I have no clue what I'm doing with this but hey - I'll figure it out.

[Edit]: I think it's also important to mention - MY URL IS NOT A REFERENCE TO FREUD"S MOST FAMOUS THEORY. It's a pun that stuck for unrelated reasons. Not incest.

[deskgoblin]

"What Makes You Think I'd Like You?" | Arataki Itto x Reader | Police Officer! Reader x Gang Member! Arataki Itto | Smut | Enemies to Lovers | Side Characters x Reader (Chapter 2)

“You’re stuck here with me.” The words reverberate in my head as the oni slowly walks towards me. I hear the door click, but I quickly put my hand up to prevent them from coming in. I got up from my chair and leaned against the wall. Itto towers over me and I peer up at him smiling softly, “If you let me help you I can get you out of here. It’s that easy.” He peers down at me calculative and before I could process the swift motion, there was a loud CRACK sound behind me. Itto’s face inches away from mine, his fist inside the wall behind my head. It took me a second to process the damage he has done and I’m stuck staring at him with this perplexed and disgusted look. He stares at me in contempt before he saunters to the table, and sits down in the chair with a big huff. “Now if you’re done,” He places his feet on the table and leans back, his arms behind his head, “I’d like to be interviewed by someone else or I’ll hire a lawyer and make a bigger issue. A little redhead owes me a favor anyways.” I curled my lip and grumbled under my breath before leaving the interrogation room. Childe opened the door for me and I heard him snickering behind me. “You know if he lawyers up, the department will be screwed. We don’t have any reason to hold him and you’re just bullying him.” Childe flicked his lighter, it danced in front of his face and illuminated his dim eyes. “Now I’m aware, but..” I moved my cigarette towards his lighter, “I really feel like they are involved with something.” “Hun, you know it is okay to be wrong sometimes. It’s hard being a detective that doesn’t leave her desk..” He trailed off quieter towards the end, inhaled a large cloud and exhaled facing away from me. I rolled my eyes and burned through my stick fairly quickly, it burned the back of my throat and I held in the cough so as to not embarrass myself. Tartaglia was right however, I needed to be able to keep my title and not stir in places I am not entirely sure about. It was imperative I kept my shit together, I have a cat to take care of. Tartaglia scooted a bit closer to me, his breath making a faint mist in the glowing red light of his dying cigarette. “Hey Y/N, I was wondering if you wanted to tag along with me on an investigation tomorrow. It’s just a minor interview with some locals but I think it would help you ease back in.” I grimaced and looked away, dropping my cigarette on the ground and smashing it into the ground with the toe of my shoe. “I’m not sure if I can.” “I’ll get you breakfast..And out of morning interviews~.” He cooed. I perked up at his offer, “And out of morning interviews?” “Yes, hun. I said that, good job. Are you interested now?” I smiled softly and nodded. “Sounds like a date, I’ll come get you early. Be down by 7:15, alright?” He began walking away before I could rearrange the time. Upon arriving at my apartment I felt a presence loom over me, something that made me uneasy. I put my thumb over my retractable spear, a device Xiao made for me that can withstand immense amounts of air pressure and can fit in my pocket. I treasured its protection over me and caressed the release button in my pocket while studying the windows and exits of my home. I turned the corner and suddenly I felt a sharp inducing pain in my leg. Two little fangs on my calf and about fourteen little toes clawing at me, Salem, my beloved tortoiseshell girl. A polydactyl cat with about twenty-eight to thirty-two toes, can never remember which number it was. However, she was special and deserved all the detail to be poured into her. The impending doom left my shoulders as soon as she surfaced from the hallway, and I was met with her demands of extra food. That thirty-five pound piece of lard doesn’t need a thing extra, however, I cave and give her a bit of tuna I ate straight out of the can for dinner. I never was one to cook since joining the force, I felt the soul sucking start when I didn’t want to cook anymore. I still enjoy it, but don’t have the heart to put love into something that doesn’t last long. I’m beyond dead in the mornings, so far gone that getting out of bed flashed into Tartaglia’s car. I gurgled something incoherent as he handed off a warm coffee to me, I popped the cap off and downed it as fast as I could. I can hear him giggling and saying something sweet yet somehow in a condescending tone, turning at the now green light. “Are you alright? I’ve never seen you up this early.” “I think you need to talk less until lunch time.” I propped my head against the window, my vision blurring into a calm black as my eyes closed. I felt the car’s engine turn off after what seemed like nothing short of a few minutes, half asleep I stirred only for a few seconds before falling asleep again. Something began to move my hair and rub against my face and before I knew it, my window was open and my head hit the frame of the car window hard and suddenly. Childe burst into loud and shrieking laughter, he covered his face and rolled up the window. Tears ran down his eyes and he began to hiccup between chokes of laughter, “Oh my - hic - god! Are you okay?!” He continued to laugh but it became softer as the hiccups pierced his excitement. Childe placed his hand behind my head and pulled me to him before kissing my head, he stroked my hair still laughing between hiccups. “God that was funny, but seriously, are you okay?” He pulled away slightly from me and pushed a lock of hair behind my ear and smiled softly. I breathed hard out of my nose and unbuckled my seatbelt, and rushed out of the car. I bent down to the side mirror of his car and fixed my disheveled hair before taking in my surroundings. A small village with some kids playing in the backyard of an old woman’s house, she stood by her mailbox staring in our direction. I looked over at Childe and he smiled at the older woman, waving to her and getting his notepad and recorder. We approached her and Tartaglia began running down the process of interviewing her as a witness. I zoned out and ended up staring at the ocean long enough to have tuned out the entire conversation. “And my partner, Officer L/N..” Tartaglia yanked on my arm, linking his hand around my forearm. “Is shadowing this interview so don’t pay too much mind to her, alright?” He smiled sweetly at the woman and as soon as she turned around, he shot me a glare. “You’re supposed to be paying attention. I didn’t buy you coffee and deal with your grotesque snoring for you to not care about this. Please respect me.” I was caught off guard, I stuttered out a reason for my lack of attention but couldn’t come to a conclusion. He shook his head and put his hand on the small on my back, leading me towards the woman’s house. It wasn’t until we walked through  the door he stopped guiding me with his slender hand.

[needlesscontrarian]

Also I think minors should be allowed to vote anyway because they are still subject to those laws. We don't let children steal and murder, even if when they are tried with lower stakes. There are 16-year-olds who work and pay taxes on their income, and any child that buys something still has to pay a sales tax that they had no say in.

"Oh they're too stupid and immature and they'll just cave to pressure from their parents/peers." So what? Lots of adults are stupid and immature and are swayed by the opinions of their social groups. An 80-year-old with dementia has worse cognitive functioning than a 17-year-old and no one talks about disenfranchising them.

If you live in a country, your life is affected by who is in power, and if you are physically capable of voting, then your vote should count. End of story.

[narancias-headband]

Doing this to La Squadra

Apologies, that TikTok just... Inspired me...

Okay so... That link broke?? It was a TikTok wherein men would take a shot, then get a glass of water thrown into their face before receiving a hearty slap. Soooo... That's the basis here. 😅

And I think I'm gonna just...

NSFW - 18+ - Minors DNI

Risotto

He's gonna have to be drunk drunk first. Probably gets peer pressured by the rest of the team to let you. Handles it like a champ; doesn't flinch, doesn't whine, just takes it. Oh, but that slap did something to him. He's a bit scary the rest of the night, dark and intense. Don't worry, he's not mad. He's literally just really horny and doesn't know what to do about it. He might make that your responsibility.

Formaggio

He thinks it sounds kinda fun, and he's not even that drunk. Excitedly gets in position and gives you this big cheesy grin. It was not as fun as he expected, but he's a good sport. He laughs and smiles as he readjusts his jaw. It hurt a lot more than he thought it would. Will ask you to kiss it better sometime later.

Prosciutto

Shoots you down immediately. Says it sounds barbaric. Once someone says that 'he's just scared' you see his jaw tense. Not wanting to be seen as a coward, he sits across from you, straightens out his jacket, looks you dead in the eyes and downs his shot. You better be ready to follow through. This is about him proving something now, and you're here to make that happen. He's very tight lipped about the whole thing afterwards. He's not letting you know how he feels. Lets his hair down since it's all wet now anyway. 👀

Pesci

When you explain what the plan is, Pesci is terrified. He can hardly down a shot anyway, and now you're going to splash him with cold water and slap him across the face? He's going to take some serious convincing and peer pressure. If/when he finally caves, do him a favor here; make the slap look worse than it is. When he's able to brush it off better than anyone expected, he gains some massive respect with the team for a while.

Ghiaccio

He's not into the idea. At all. But after a few insults from the team, he's angrily getting ready for it. He's got something to prove, I guess. He's got quite the scowl going on until your hand hits him. Whoops... Was there some pent up anger in that slap? Maybe. He probably deserves it, though. He tries to stay stoic, but man that slap did something to his brain. He hates that he liked it somehow. His scowl stays plastered across his face, but if you watch his eyes intently, you'll see them shift to a dreamy, faraway look. He's going to be extra mean to you for a while because he's bad at emotions.

Illuso

He's more worried about the splash of water than anything else. Will whine about not wanting to get his hair wet. Once you concede to not splashing him, he's game. Downs his shot and sends the cockiest, most shit-eating grin your way. Why did you let him weasel his way out of the splash? He deserves it. This slap isn't nearly enough of a comeuppance for the cocky bastard. Or... Maybe it was. It hit much harder than he expected, and now he's kind of mad that you went through with it. He's going to be pouting all night about it. You're gonna have to do some serious sucking up in order to get back on his good side.

Melone

Is excited for anything that makes your hands touch him in any way, shape, or form. He's fidgeting in his seat, amped on the anticipation, as you get ready. Full on moans when you hit him. He's the worst. Genuinely hopes this becomes a new tradition. He'd love to get slapped by you again. He bruises like a peach and he'll soon have a hand shaped purple splotch across his cheek. It makes you feel awful, but don't worry, he loves it.

[absolutewhore101]

Panic at the Party

A/N: i am so sorry for that title

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x GN!Reader

Summary: people at parties suck but Ashton and the boys are there to save you

Warnings: party, alcohol, slight depiction of anxiety/panic attack, peer pressure

Word Count: 999

Minors DNI

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Any party thrown by any of the boys was sure to be a crowded event, people coming from hours away just to hang out and get drunk. 

Some people had no respect for boundaries.

Neither you nor Ash drank, which worked out quite well in your relationship. That didn’t mean that people didn’t push. 

Because, more often than you thought, they did. They were convinced that if they got you in the right mood or around the right people, you’d cave, and they’d finally get to see you drunk. 

But it never worked. Partly because you and Ash never really separated at parties, and no one wanted to push him. If they did manage to get you alone, one of the boys would usually cut in before it got too out of hand. 

This time, within seconds of Ash leaving your side to go to the bathroom, they swooped in like vultures. You were instantly swept up in a crowd and forced into the next room.

The smell of alcohol filled your nose and you had to fight the urge to gag. It was spilling over their cups and ending up on you, covering your bare arms and soaking your shirt. 

They were so close to you, they were practically shoving it down your throat. 

You looked around the room, hoping to find a familiar face that might be able to help, but realized you were in a sea of strangers. 

Your heartbeat picked up slightly as you silently prayed that one of the boys would hear the commotion, or Ash would realize that you weren’t where he left you, and come save you. 

The never-ending yelling of which alcohol you needed to try, the joking about holding you down, it all got to be too much. 

Tears pricked at the back of your eyes, though you weren’t sure if they were there because of fear or anger. 

You clenched your hands into fists at your sides and closed your eyes, trying to control your breathing. 

Your head was spinning, black spots appearing in your vision and a dull pounding in the back of your head reminded you of just how loud drunk people could get. 

Ash walked back into the kitchen but stopped mid step when he didn’t see you. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked around the room, before he turned his head to survey the living room, but you were nowhere to be found. 

He spotted Calum, quickly walking over to him. 

“Hey, have you seen Y/N? I went to the bathroom and came back and they’re gone.” Ashton said. 

A look of confusion came over Calum’s face as he tried to recall if he had seen you leave the room. 

“I haven’t seen them. A huge crowd went in there not that long ago, though, so maybe they went with them?” He offered. 

Ash turned his head at the exact right moment as he saw your distressed face surrounded by at least 20 people. 

As soon as you locked eyes, he understood what was happening. 

“Get Luke.” He said sternly to Calum, refusing to take his eyes off of you as he walked in your direction. 

“Hey!” He yelled, catching the attention of everyone in the room. As soon as they realized who it was, they scattered. 

Your knees buckled, and Ash’s arms wrapped around your waist before you hit the floor, pulling you up and into his chest. 

You clung onto him desperately, as he repeated the same few words into your hair. 

“I’ve got you. I’m here. You’re safe.”

Luke and Calum walked into the room, shutting the door behind them as they took in the scene before them. 

Ash looked at them over his shoulder, the anger in his eyes overshadowed by the concern on his face. 

The door burst open and Mikey walked in, shutting the door behind him as he took a few steps forward. 

“What the fuck happened?” He asked. 

There was silence for a few seconds before you pulled back from Ash, meeting all of their eyes before you dropped your head, staring down at the floor. 

“I don’t even know. One second I was in the kitchen, and then Ash left and they all came over to me and they were talking about trying to get me to drink and someone said to hold me down and-” Your breath hitched as you buried your face back into Ashton’s chest. 

“I’ve got you.” He whispered, as his arms wrapped around your shaking shoulders. 

“Alright, okay, Ash take them home, we’ll handle it.” Luke said, before the 3 of them walked back out of the room, the music abruptly cut off a few seconds later. 

There were no words said between the two of you as Ash led you out of the house and to his car. 

“Let’s go home now, yeah?” He said. You nodded. 

The drive was quiet, the soft music from the radio filling in the silence. 

You clutched onto Ashton’s hand as you leaned your head back against your headrest, eyes shut tightly. 

Pulling into his garage, Ashton shut the car off before he got out, quickly making his way to your side to help you out. 

You don’t remember getting ready for bed, too lost in your own head to realize what was happening. 

“Y/N? Dove?” Ashton said, hand waving in front of your face. 

You blinked a few times, looking into Asthon’s confused eyes. 

“Hi, yeah, sorry. I spaced out, I think.” 

He nodded. 

“Okay, let’s get some sleep.” You turned around, crawling up the bed as Ashton walked around to his side. 

You laid on your side, facing away from his side, and Ashton pulled you back into his chest, holding you tightly. 

“Go to sleep, sweets. I’ll be right here.”

Blocking out the memory of the party was easy when Ash was there to shield you. 

You squeezed his arm before you closed your eyes, drifting off to sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tell me your thoughts! Thank you for reading :)

[sunder-soul]

As requested, a Part II to the prompt from @riddles-wifey​​ about jealous Tom!

PART I HERE! 💖

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Jealousy

Summary: Reader tries to avoid Tom following their strange confrontation, fails miserable, a very different kind of confrontation ensues.

Word count: 1.5k Content warning: making out, nothing too serious.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Something weird happened,” you say bluntly, falling into the seat next to Margot in Transfiguration the next morning.

She immediately looks up from her textbook.

“With Riddle,” you add quietly, glancing around the classroom to check for onlookers and potential eavesdroppers.

Margot’s brows shoot up and a wide grin splits her face. “Are you serious?” she whispers excitedly, leaning in.

“Yeah,” you mutter, pulling out your Transfiguration textbook and some parchment. “I think he thought that me and Varrowe were dating…”

“And?” Margot says immediately, so focused on you that she doesn’t notice Dumbledore stride into the room (which is rather impressive considering he’s dressed in vibrant lime green robes with glittering gold fastenings.)

“He got all mad last night when he saw us together, but then when I told him that I was Varrowe’s tutor, he…” You trail off, twirling your quill in your fingers, very unsure how to even describe what had happened.

“Yes?” Margot prompts, still grinning.

“He got all up close and… intense,” you mumble with a wave of your hand, feeling your cheeks grow warm.

Margot looks delighted. “And?”

“And nothing,” you shrug, dejectedly writing the date at the top of your parchment. “After that he just… left.”

“Sweet Snidgets above,” Margot says, shaking her head with a wry smile on her face. “You snagged Riddle.”

“I haven’t snagged anyone!” you whisper hastily, glancing around again. “And keep your voice down!”

“I’m so proud of you,” she says theatrically, completely ignoring your panic. “Merlin’s beard, wait until poor Olive Hornby finds out, she’s been planning their wedding since first year –”

“She’s not going to find out anything,” you say pointedly, narrowing your eyes, “because there’s nothing to find out!”

“Sure, sure,” Margot winks, “so what are you going to do?”

“Dunno,” you mutter, “I guess just avoid him for the rest of time.”

“Avoid him?” she repeats, looking scandalised. “Are you completely stupid? Why would you –”

“My deepest apologies, Miss Droope,” Dumbledore calls from the front of the room, making the both of you jump and wheel around in your seats as the entire class turns to look at you. “I’m afraid I must interrupt your conversation with the minor inconvenience of today’s lesson,” he continues with a sparkle in his eye. “Perhaps you two might find a time outside of class to continue your discussion.”

“Sorry Professor,” you both mutter, hastily bending over your notes.

Dumbledore resumes the class, but the side-eye grin that Margot shoots you assures you that you are most definitely not off the hook yet.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Your plan to avoid Riddle works right up until the exact moment that it doesn’t.

It’s a rainy Monday night about a week after the strange conversation with Riddle and you’re holed up in the library with the most gruelling History of Magic assignment you’ve ever had – a sixty inch dissertation on the contributing factors of the Giant Wars.

You throw your quill down and sigh, staring up at the droplets trickling down the dark window and listening to the relentless thrum of the rain. Your eyes are aching and your brain feels like fuzz – it’s definitely time for a break.

You get up and wander down the nearby shelves, vaguely searching for a particular text and fully intending on taking as long as possible to find it, when just like that you round the corner and see Riddle standing in the middle of the aisle.

You freeze.

He hasn’t seen you yet, peering attentively at a text open in one hand as the other traces down its table of contents. You take a slow step back, and right as you think you might get away without drawing his attention, his head swivels around and his eyes flash to yours.

There’s a very loaded pause in which you must look a lot like a deer caught in headlights.

“Evening,” Riddle says smoothly, snapping his book shut with one hand and sliding it back onto the shelf.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly.

“I haven’t seen you around very much lately,” Riddle says casually, leaning against the bookshelf beside him.

“I’ve been busy,” you mutter, avoiding his even gaze as you scan the shelves for the book you’re looking for.

“Oh I’m sure,” he says softly.

You grit your teeth and squint at the books in front of you, determined to ignore him.

“What are you looking for?” Riddle asks.

“Modern Gigantomachy,” you say reluctantly.

“Which edition?”

You glance around at him. He’s still leaning against the bookshelf, looking annoyingly attractive, the waves of his black hair contrasting with his skin, the fine angles of his brows above his dark eyes, the knowing curl on his lips as he watches you –

“Fourth,” you say quickly before you can get too distracted.

Riddle pushes off the bookshelf and is suddenly mere inches in front of you. Your heart immediately lurches as you take an instinctive step away and your back hits the shelf behind you. Riddle delicately arches a brow at your reaction, his eyes fixed on yours as he slowly reaches up to a shelf far above you and slides a book off of it. He hands it to you and you take it automatically.

“Thanks,” you breathe, staring at him wide-eyed.

“Of course,” Riddle says softly.

There’s another silence. Neither of you have moved an inch, and you begin to wonder exactly how many times you’re going to end a hair’s breadth away Riddle before one of you finally caves –

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he murmurs, a smirk building on his lips.

Your heart stops for a second. “You were jealous of Varrowe,” you blurt out.

Riddle’s smirk falls. He lifts a hand to rest on the shelf above your head, leaning over you very unnervingly. “Jealous?” he repeats sharply

“Yeah,” you breathe, slightly horrified that you’d actually said it out loud. “You were.”

Something works in Riddle’s jaw as he glares down at you, and you hug the book he gave you closer to your chest.

“And why would I be jealous of Varrowe?” he whispers.

You blink at him. Riddle is close, too close, his eyes raking across your face as he looms over you, something almost possessive about his hand above your head. There’s no mistaking the sudden shift in the air between you.

You’re leaning up onto the balls of your feet without thinking twice.

Your lips brush against his, so softly that the kiss is barely there, but enough to send your heart hammering as you pull back just far enough to check his reaction. Your cheeks are aflame and your lips are tingling, unable to believe what you’ve just done as the silence stretches on and on, as Riddle stares back at you, frozen in place with something you can’t recognise burning in his dark eyes.

The faintest frown appears between Riddle’s brow, and then slowly, very slowly, he’s leaning down towards you. Your breath hitches. His lips meet yours at the exact same moment that he steps in closer, crowding you back against the shelf, soft and warm, kissing you with a smooth, relentless pressure and you’re leaning up into it without even realising what you’re doing, thoughts swirling, heat on your skin, stomach twisting –

Riddle is pulling the book from your hands and carelessly dropping it to the floor, taking you by the waist and lifting you up as he steps in again, pinning you to against the bookshelf without breaking the kiss. Your hands card into the soft waves of his hair and his grip on your waist tightens as you wrap your legs around him. The first touch of his tongue makes you gasp against his lips, and Riddle’s fingers immediately tangle in your hair to pull you harder against him. Riddle’s mouth is moving against yours, hungry and unyielding, and you’re getting dizzy as heat curls in your stomach –

He pulls away very suddenly. You stare at him in surprise, breathing hard. Riddle’s lips are slick and his eyes have gone black, one of his hands still buried in your hair and the other gripping your hip so tightly that you’re sure that you’ll have bruises in the pattern of his fingers tomorrow.

“We are in the middle of the library,” he murmurs against your lips. It takes a lot to resist shivering at the sound of his voice.

“We… could… go somewhere else…” you manage to say, your heart racing so hard that he can surely hear it.

A small smirk builds on his face. “What about your essay?” he says smoothly, so close that your lips start aching to close the scant distance between you –

“I think technically I just had my textbook confiscated by a prefect,” you whisper with a flicker of a smile, “so there’s my alibi.”

Riddle breathes a laugh, and then his lips are on yours once more.

Thanks for asking for a sequel @bluehydrangea-cherry​ and @the-almond-dinger 💖

[nsfwitchy2]

I just…. What the fuck is wrong with some of you???

I’m sorry but. What the fuck.

“Both candidates are bad!!”

You think I don’t know that? You think it isn’t constantly shoved down my throat that both candidates are bad?

I don’t fucking care anymore. I do not give a flying fuck about how both candidates are not your ideal President.

I care about the fact that one party has already come out with a PLAN of things they are going to DESTROY if we put them in power. I care about the fact that they want to get rid of Reproductive rights entirely almost. I care about the fact that they wanna cut environmental protection laws. I care about what is happening, right now, that I know we can’t fix overnight but god damnit I at least wanna know the people in power are people who can be REASONED with!!! Who aren’t just making policies so they can delight in the suffering of their nation!!

You’re RIGHT. Joe Biden is NOT the ideal President - but wanna know what he also isn’t? A fucking dictator who would love nothing more than to see me and my friends and my family dead. He’s a guy who can at least possibly cave to peer pressure and protests - not someone who starts a fucking insurrection when he isn’t elected President.

I don’t give a fuck if Joe Biden isn’t the perfect President. If you genuinely think risking the safety of minorities and marginalized groups just to prove that point is “activism” - I hope you have the day you deserve.

I do not have time for yall putting anti voting propaganda on my dash

You’re better than that, all of you

Put that shit away

[dungeonaspects]

The Undercity

The Story

The town was built centuries ago, a wide river winding its way across the landscape, easy access to the great lakes, and with the winter so mild there was no need to worry about the frosts. That is until the earthquake happened, many houses destroyed, the river diverted, and an enormous chasm appeared in the ground.

While recovering what we could we noticed strange figures on the edge of town at night. They peered out at us, eyes glinting in the dark, calling to them made them scatter into the night. We finally managed to investigate the chasm and by the gods...

A whole city underneath us, houses carved into the cave, people collecting water from a lake, they're shielding their eyes even with hoods on. Half their city is in ruins, a huge section collapsed.

One night a guard was walking the village, minding his business when he was attacked. A foreign dagger was in his gut, his sword missing. Now half the town is calling for blood and demands recompense for the murder, if that city below is hostile, we could all die, or worse, end up slaves to monsters.

The Hook

This is a chance to get an idea for what your party will prioritise during their time together. With this there are so many routes it's staggering.

Will the party descend into the chasm searching for peace or war? Both sides have lost their homes, tensions are high, supplies are dwindling. Will one have to die to allow the other to live? Or could they work together to save everyone, a pact brokered.

The inhabitants below will likely only speak undercommon, so communication is difficult without a translator, and their values may be different. They may be extremely matriarchal like the Drow, unwilling to speak to men beyond orders, or they may only respect the words of craftmen, paying no heed to any that cannot make a masterwork.

This is an alien community with different morals, etiquette, and priorities. Choosing war may summon forth an enemy none on the surface will understand.

Some Ideas

The city itself I leave to your imagination, this could be a city of drow laying in wait to recover and strike, war being inevitable. Or some Svirfneblin unwilling to share what little they have out of stubborn pride. Or a homebrew race, arachni hidden from the world, monstrous but intelligent, perhaps some blind creatures completely alien to our understanding, curious about the surface world.

The dead guard is an element to bring distrust on both sides, the guard could have been innocent, spooked by the person they found and was killed out of fear or hate. Or they could have been an aggressor, threatening a simply curious creature exploring a new world. The town is desperate, and desperation can breed contempt regardless of purpose. The spouse of the guard may lead a rebellion or militia, looking for "justice" adding to the pressure.

I can see this being as diplomatic or combative as your players make it, maybe make some key characters; the leader on each side, a trusted advisor, a dissenter group leader, and a few minor NPC's to bring a "human" element and perspective for the group. Then let the group decide, war will be storming the city (that's if they don't switch sides to the underdark city) and their combat is some palace or city hall guards (depending on how grand the city is for you) and the royalty/leader themselves.

Let me know if you have any other ideas, I quite like how open it is.

Art by Jesse van Dijk

Beautiful light and the structures in the side of the cave are stunning. I can see people living there, every wall and window has something that shows that people built and live in it. Thank you

[fleursdemeduse]

Remembrance AU: Constant Dying

This is not going in the direction that was originally planned, but I'm not sure I'm too upset by it. I'm glad to finally post a part that goes a bit further into Techno's feelings about you this time, though. I'm also starting to work on an angsty Simpbur fic alongside this one, so keep an eye out for that.

Warnings: Mention of death ; Near-death

Words: 3.6k

Your legs throbbed as you trudged through the multiple paths to where you and Techno had been mining. Your neck wasn’t fairing much better. There was always residual pain after a death, especially when you were killed by your own stupidity and not mobs or someone else. You were more than happy to take hits for your friend, often shielding his body with your much smaller one to protect him, but natural deaths were pointless to you. Not to mention that dying this many times in such a short period made an ache develop on the right side of your brain and you knew you wouldn’t be able to be rid of it for hours. You finished descending carved stairs to where you believed you had been and let out a sigh at the effort. Your chest filled with a dull ache at the action. A firework to the chest was certainly a quick way to die. It was far from the most painful as long as it got the job done in one or two shots and the ache would only last another hour or two if you would stop dying.

You thought back on how the events from earlier in the day had transpired. The entire thing had been a shit show and you loathed the next time you’d speak to Wilbur, knowing you were likely going to just yell at him. You weren’t in a great mood because of his little stunt. At least you knew why Techno had killed you and several others on the server. There was no reason for him to sit back and watch Tubbo be executed by your dearest friend. You could only hope that the boys new scars weren’t too bad. He’d have to display them for the rest of this lifetime, after all. Maybe he’d think they were cool like Tommy did.

You slowly unclenched your jaw and relaxed your shoulders, smiling a little at the thought of blond that you spent the other half of your days doting on. He was like the little brother you had always imagined wanting. Mumza had filled your prayers in some fashion, you supposed. A small chuckle spilled from your lips, deciding you’d make Technoblade pay you back somehow for your deaths today. You were up to three now.

A smile curled your lips as you thought of the possibilities. Maybe you’d steal his crown for a little bit. Or his cloak. You giggled to yourself as you crossed the lava pit that you were going to use later for obsidian. Mining in caves this deep was difficult enough without mobs so the lava was a good way to make sure none spawned nearby. Perhaps you could get away with all of the above with the addition of forcing him to make you a cup of tea. That would certainly be fair, wouldn’t it? You were sure if you convinced chat, you’d be able to make him do it.

The ore had been mostly cleared out, all that remained were long tunnels deep underground spanning for what felt like forever. It took you a good chunk of time, but finally you approached him from behind. He had continued mining, cobblestone covering the hole that you had fallen down and ultimately died upon impact in. “You grabbed my stuff, right?”

He pointed to the chest that had been set up, not stopping his assault on a piece of diorite. You flipped open the lid, pulling out several stone pickaxes he had managed to pick up. You didn’t suppose he had kept most of the stone, leaving it in the cave, but the ores, redstone, and lapis you had gathered sat untouched in the chest. “I don’t understand why you continue to use those. They’re flimsy.”

You shrugged before joining his side again, mining away the soft rock. “Because I can keep a large stock of them and don’t have to waste the durability of my diamond one.” You stopped paying attention to the coal you mined at above you as you looked towards him. “Besides, they’re expendable and I don’t have to worry about retrieving them every time I-”

Gravel began to fall on and around you in heavy chunks, obscuring your vision. You were startled for a moment at the sudden assault and you cursed your horrible luck. Of course the moment you were back and trying to resume your task, you’d almost die again. You recovered quickly, feeling the pressure around you as you were crushed and tried to dig your way out of the pile, but more seemed to just fall and replace the gravel you had just removed. It was suffocating. Rocks grated against your skin and you cringed at the sound of them rubbing against each other. You tried to claw your way through, fingers getting scraped as small pebbles cut the flesh. You were running out of air. You hated dying like this.

A hand grasped your bicep and you grunted as you were yanked out of the rubble. Rocks and flint shifted around you as it gave way and filled in the spot where you had just been. A broad chest cushioned you as you stumbled forward. You sucked in air as you rested your forehead against him. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone screw something up that fast before."

Your laugh was more of a wheeze as you smacked your hand against him, next to where your head rested. You didn’t move, however. Techno chuckled as he pat your back. He’d let you have your moment to calm yourself back down. He wasn’t particularly scared of you dying again, but he knew it had to have sucked. You had been taking the brunt of damage meant for him since, well, every time the two of you spent time together, and he didn’t understand why you were so eager to do it. On top of your clumsiness that already resulted in countless other deaths he didn’t know about, you died for him often when it would have probably only resulted in a minor wound for him. You were so reckless. But that smile you gave him every time somehow dissipated his annoyance more than it should have. It was familiar somehow. The voices loved it more than they should have. They loved you more than they should have.

You didn’t care who he was, how he was, what he did, if he could do something for you. You cared about him. Whenever he was giving too much to the rebellion, whenever he was hyper fixated on tasks and was trapped in his own brain with only chat as company, you were always there. They didn’t mind receding to the back of his head while you two talked, adding in small quips here and there. The loud roar they normally were was typically a small rumble when you were talking. It put him on edge with how much they liked you, but he couldn’t blame them. You provided conversation more often than not. You offered simpler solutions to long problems in his head he’d been breaking apart over and over until it had spiraled into a bigger one than it had started out at. But besides that, you also forced him to sleep, to remember to drink water, to take time for himself. To care about himself the way you did. He didn’t know how to repay you for the unending kindness you showed him. Especially when all you asked for was his friendship in return.

He felt you sigh against him and he moved his arm to free you. You were looking up at him, though, not stepping away.

"Are you alright?" His lips twitched. Shouldn’t he be asking you that?

"Yeah, why?"

"You look mad." A snort escaped him. You couldn’t even see his expression past the mask.

"That's just my face.” You didn’t look convinced. He ran his fingers through your hair, knocking some debris loose. It fell to the floor at your feet. He ignored the way you leaned into his touch. “I’m alright, [y/n].”

You smiled at him. You smiled that cursed smile. It made him feel worthy of the title god; so full of reverence and kindness. You had to have been blessed by Kristin herself. How could you still look upon him like that after what had happened at the festival? How could you show such adoration for a-

“Stop lookin’ at me like that.” He turned his head away. He didn’t feel like he deserved to be the recipient of that smile made from sheer adoration. Your eyebrows furrowed and your smile wavered.

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like how Wilbur looks at you.” Your laugh rang through the tunnels. It echoed off the walls and he couldn’t help the swell of something in his chest. For a moment, you reminded him of Phil.

“Why is it a bad thing if I look at you like he does to me? He’s a really dear friend.” Oh dear.

“Don’t tell him that.” The idea of you only seeing him as a friend would break his heart floated unspoken in the air. You didn’t seem to notice it.

“Why not?”

“Just don’t.” Techno stepped back from you when it was obvious you weren’t going to do it yourself. He watched you deflate slightly and felt like he had done something wrong.

“It’s not like he wants to talk to me now anyways.” You picked up your pickaxe again, moving to work on the pile of gravel. He offered you his shovel and you took it. “He hasn’t said a word to me since the festival earlier.”

“I’m honestly surprised you’re still talkin’ to either of us after that debacle.” You paused your digging to look at him curiously. “After me bein’ peer pressured into killin’ Tubbo and everyone else. Killin’ you. His plan to do nothin’ ‘bout it. It’s surprisin’ that you aren’t givin’ us both the silent treatment.”

You scoffed, going back to the gravel in front of you. “That wasn’t his plan.”

Techno stilled, his eyebrows furrowing. “What?”

“Wilbur wasn’t planning on just doing nothing. He has TNT planted all around Manburg.” You hesitated, the grip on his shovel tightening in your trembling hands as you continued digging. “I don’t know why he didn’t set it off.”

There was no sound next to you or behind you. Stopping your work, you looked at him, only to see him looking towards where the mouth of the cave was. “We should be gettin’ back.”

A soft sigh left your mouth. “Go on ahead, I’m right behind you.”

You didn’t want to face the fallout.

You returned to Pogtopia late that night. Mining alone had been a good way to soothe your nerves after the events that had happened earlier. Whilst you had wished Techno had been there longer, you understood wanting to regroup. Today had been stressful for all of you.

You walked down the crude steps that had been made after putting the excess resources into the communal chest at the top. There was soft murmuring and the distant sound of Wilbur’s cackle put you a little on edge, but you soldiered on. It’s okay. Tubbo hopefully would have respawned by now. Things would go on. You froze at the top of the walkway down to the primary meeting area.

Techno was wrapping his knuckles with some extra gauze you recognized to be from your chest. Tommy was sitting a little away from him, his back to the wall and his knees to his chest. There was a distant look in his eyes as he stared at the ground in front of him. You could see a sliver of one of your plasters on his face, the bluish purple fabric and white dots a dark galaxy against his pale cheek. Your feet were moving before your brain as you ran to the teenage boy and knelt before him. You should have come back sooner. You reached out to hold him before hesitating, choosing instead to extend your hand to examine the flesh around the bandage. “You look horrible, Tommy. What happened? I thought you were safe after what happened at the festival.”

Techno grunted from the sidelines. “We resolved our issues.”

The boy before you huffed, still looking at the ground, but he leaned into your touch. “Resolved is a strong word, but we’re okay. For now.” He looked up at you and you pursed your lips together. He relaxed at the worry in your eyes. He was safe with you. “Where were you?”

“I was mining. I needed to blow off steam after all of that.” The blond just nodded, pressing his face further into your touch. You moved closer to brush some of the golden locks away from his face with your free hand. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Techno was suddenly beside you both, towering over the two of you. “It stays in the pit.”

You sent him an inquisitive look. “The pit?”

He only nodded and your frown deepened. Anger started to fester in you. Did he do this? To a child? “We are definitely discussing this later, Technoblade.” You watched his shoulders tense for a moment. You didn’t know if it was because of your tone or the use of his full name, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at the moment. You’d take care of it later. You two always talked things through, and now would not be any different, but you had to worry about Tommy. “You can’t just hurt people and say things are better now.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but you were already helping the blond up to shuffle him to your bed. The child kept trying to wave you off, but you persisted. Despite your ire against him, something shifted in his chest at watching how gentle you were with Tommy. His bond with you was truly something to behold.

Why aren’t they paying attention to us like earlier?

They’re so sweet to him.

Tommy's lucky we didn’t accidentally kill him.

I wonder how they’re so close.

E.

I don’t want to talk to them later.

Why are they mad at us?

E.

So they’re not upset about the festival, but they’re upset about a fight with Tommy? That makes no sense.

Follow them.

This is stupid.

E.

Do they like him more?

Techno sat back in his spot against the ravine wall. He saw traces of a fireplace and used the heel of his boot to push around the sooty remains. Most of the questions chat had were valid, but he didn’t want to pursue you. He didn’t want to have that conversation later, either. He just wanted to move on. But he knew you wouldn’t. Something about how resentment ruins friendships and miscommunication was the biggest cause. He could never resent you. Sometimes he resented the gods, but never you.

He wanted to know what kind of entertainment DreamXD and Kristin got out of watching them over and over and over again. Did they have nothing better to do than continuously create and orchestrate each new lifetime? Each new world with different rules and a different storyline? Or recreate other worlds just to change the plot? There had been so many, but this was the first where they all remembered. This was the first where he had met you.

Techno closed his eyes. None of his lives had been bad. Well, particularly bad. Wilbur always seemed to get off worse than he did. Tommy sometimes worse than them both.

He remembered a life of gilded castles, one of many. He trained Wilbur and Tommy in combat. He studied politics and was a general. He watched the two of them grow up in Phil’s absence. There were handmaidens that were too bold in their words, butlers that were too polite, and inside jokes between him and the guards. There were dinners made of things that he only wished they could recreate here. He remembered that despite any squabbling, they were still very much a family. He knows Tommy remembers that one all too clearly. He doesn’t talk about it often, but Techno knows the look in his eyes whenever Phil is mentioned. He also speaks sometimes about the servant that once tended to his mother but he nor Wilbur could ever recall one. Too many faceless employees. Too many nameless soldiers.

He remembered a different life where Hanahaki Disease roamed rampant. The flowers infected most of the people he knew. Sometimes they got better, sometimes they didn’t. Phil would never catch it. The blurry memory of his friend saying so flashed briefly in his head. That fact didn't surprise him in the least. Phil was a catch. But he had never had to deal with the deadly buds either. He couldn't remember why. His head throbbed gently as he tried to wade through the fog. Wilbur had suffered from it, though. It was devastating when he passed. The flowers choked him, stuffing his airways with petals. Who had he loved so much it killed him? Didn't he love anyone like that? Didn’t he find someone so beautiful that dying was more preferable than a life without them? Maybe he did. There were small flashes in his head of the gentle squeeze of a hand and a smile that could snuff out the sun. Why couldn't he seem to remember their face?

There was another life. A life where markings appeared on his skin. Little scratches, cuts and scrapes that weren't his, doodles, words that he would have never written himself. He remembered sitting through a lecture once, smiling at the little stars that speckled his arm and slowly appeared like the night sky in the twilight of the setting sun. Wilbur had shown off the same markings, and it was brutal irony that the two of them shared this connection with a third. They would play games frequently. Mostly twenty questions or tic tac toe, but locations and true names were always burning scribbles on their flesh when attempted. They tried many tactics to find out more before Wilbur had told them both off. He wonders if they had found their third in that life.

There had always been gaps in his memory, especially when it came to his other lives. Lulls where the mundane had become just a bit too mundane, moments where he just shut his brain off and went by instinct. Things were easier when you didn’t have past lives to think about. When he didn’t have to consider if he had already learnt a lesson and was doomed to repeat it. When you weren’t around to give him glares and words of encouragement and cause disruption in his life. Were Tommy and Wilbur’s lives more difficult with you here too? With someone to tell them what to do and to patch up their wounds and give fleeting touches that were so soft it was like touching a petal? He hopes not.

A sound of distress comes from the direction you and Tommy had gone in and he turns to look. You’re standing there, facing away from him, reaching out towards empty space to someone who wasn’t there. You must’ve been the one to make the noise.

You turn around and his frown deepens. You look tired and more than a little frustrated. It was amazing how much of a difference you stood now compared to the person that clung to him throughout the nether when he had first met you. Your presence was easy. You didn’t ramble like he would disappear anymore. You didn’t look to him for validation with every move. You didn’t act out of the desperation isolation had instilled in you. You had settled like the missing puzzle piece they didn’t even know was missing. Did you ever visit the library that you had once called your first home?

He watches you finally approach him, sitting and leaning against his side as if you weren’t upset. You move to intertwine your arm with his, hand slipping into his own. He didn’t stop you. “Wilbur, he’s-”

“Crazy? Yeah, I know. He wants me to set off withers.” You sat straight up. Shock painted your face a hue that didn’t suit you. Or perhaps it was fear. He didn’t like it.

“Withers?” He nods. Your head spins back to the direction of your bedroom. “Does Tommy know?”

“Tommy knows. I went along with it.” Techno feels you scoot away, releasing your hold on him and he already misses the feeling. “It’s not like we’re tryin’ to salvage the place, [y/n].”

“I don’t want more innocent people to lose another life, Tech.” You look at him once more. “Do Tommy and Wilbur know that you’re hoping to leave nothing behind? Because they both talk about reestablishing L’manburg when given the chance.”

“I keep tellin’ them the truth, but it seems like they’re not gonna listen.” He watches your face fall into a look that he hopes meant acceptance. Your eyes moved to the ground between you both and you just nodded. You didn’t know where you would sit in the aftermath of this all.

Techno felt your hand slip back into his as you take your place back against his side. Pink hair was soft against your cheek as you rested it against his shoulder.

“One step at a time. Let’s worry about getting rid of Schlatt first, okay?” He just nods back, resting his head on top of yours. You squeeze his hand in response. You felt safe again, especially with him next to you “Now-

Tell me about this pit.”

[solarwonux]

24H || Seuncheol 

mechanic!seungcheol x reader

soulmate!au

w.c: 6.5k

warnings: talks of death, angst, self doubt

note: hello everyone I am not completely back yet, I am still on hiatus. I have been writing this one shot since the release of 24H. I have rewritten it many many many times and have a abandoned it many times as well. Anyway, this is the finished product and I hope you guys like it as much as I do. Thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts. And thank you @sunlightwoo​ for literally witnessing it all lol.

Also maybe one day I’ll post the original draft of this one if anyone is interested. 

P.S. this is a part of a soulmate universe in which all the members are going to have a story, but that’s gonna take a little while lol, but I hope you all stick around until them

masterlist

Hour 1 - 17:00

Seungcheol threw the wrench on the pile of tools next to him before rolling himself out from underneath the car he was working on. “I don’t see the point in it, Shua.” He sat up, grabbing the towel he had next to him, and tried his best to wipe the black smudges of his fingers. “I’m already a disappointment to my parents, why not add one more to their list?” He shrugged, eyeing his best friend who had decided to come and visit him at the car shop he worked at. 

“I think Shua has a point; you can’t brush this off. You don’t want to end up forgotten in a ditch somewhere.” Jeonghan said, pointedly resting his forearms on top of the hood of the car he had been working on. 

“I’m not going to end up in a ditch and forgotten. The higher-ups--” Seungcheol stuck a pointer finger out and pointed at the cement ceiling, “are just going to set me up with someone.” He stood up and brushed off his whitewashed jeans, the only ones he seemed to wear as they had various oil stains etched into the creases of the fabric. In actuality, he had many of the same pair, and each of them had their own unique patterns of different oil stains. 

“But wouldn’t it be better if you married your soulmate, your other half, your partner in crime, the person the Stars destined you to be with,” Joshua spoke in rushed sentences as he ran a frustrated hand through his jet black hair. His wedding ring shining in the light of the sun, glowing in all its glory. A reminder that he had chosen the path that he and Jeonghan were trying to get Seungcheol to take. 

Sometimes curiosity would seep in s when he saw how happy his best friends were with their soulmates, or when the ticking of the clock scarred into the skin of his wrist, and got too loud to ignore. Seungcheol knew he didn’t belong on that path. He was never one to follow the crowd, and the proof was in his parent’s disappointment when he decided to study music instead of medicine. 

“Nope.” He stood up and closed the hood of the car. He could feel their glares burning holes into his scalp as he strode over and opened the driver’s door. “I’m a firm believer that soulmates are made not found.” Seungcheol grinned before getting behind the wheel and inserting the keys into the ignition. He had spent all morning working on a minor problem in the engine; he was hoping that after many failed attempts, he would finally be able to get the car to start again. 

With a deep sigh, he turned the key listening as the engine sputtered a few times. The hope and confidence he had gained diminishing with each hiccup until, finally, the car roared back to life. A sigh of relief leaving his chapped lips along with a light laugh. He rested his forearms against the old battered steering wheel, peering through the windshield, catching Joshua’s nod of disapproval. He turned on his heels and walked out of the large garage door of the shop.

Seungcheol knew his friend’s meant well, and he knew they didn’t want him to end up unhappy with someone that wasn’t his other half. But how was he supposed to be sure that happiness was a given? When at the end of the day, everyone’s given soulmate was chosen at birth by a group of old white dudes calling themselves Stars.

Hour 2 - 18:00

“What are you going to do then?” Jeonghan closed the hood of the car and dusted his hands. His blonde hair grasped the light of the afternoon sun. Seungcheol placed down the paper bag that contained his and Jeonghan’s lunch on top of the aluminum table they kept in the far corner of the shop.  “I don’t know...eat lunch.” He stated, shrugging and started taking the contents out of the paper bag. “Shua leave?” 

Jeonghan rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the hood of the car. He strode over to where Seungcheol was and took the burrito he had held out to him. “Said he doesn’t want to stay and watch you ruin his life.”

“I’m not ruining my life,” Seungcheol sighed, shaking his head and sat on top of the table, unwrapping his burrito. “I’m choosing the road not taken.” He finished before taking a decent bite out of his burrito. 

“That’s ruining your life in my book.” Jeonghan gave him a pointed look and unwrapped the foil of his burrito, cursing when he noticed some its contents start to fall out of its confinement. “Aren’t you at least a little bit curious about how they look?” He dug inside the paper bag and took out a napkin to clean off the salsa stain of his grey graphic tee. Jeonghan rarely dressed down, unless he was working. Though, sometimes he’d show up in outfits Seungcheol always deemed to clean for the oil splatters he would obtain throughout the day. 

“If looks were the all end tell-all, you’d be an actor instead of the owner of your father’s car shop.” 

“Are you calling me sexy, Choi Seungcheol?” Jeonghan gasped, making the other boy scoff in annoyance. Seungcheol took another bite of his burrito, the salsa running down the stubble of his chin and sighed. “Cause may I remind you I am happily married.” Jeonghan jokes, raising his hand, wiggling his ring finger. 

Seungcheol squinted as the ring got caught in the crossfire between the heat and summer sun. The churning at the pit of his stomach started up again, along with the little voice annoying voice that lived in the back of his head. The red block of numbers on the inside of his wrist laughing at him as he tried his best to push the thought to the back of his head. Like he had done his entire life.

“Sure...but that would just be an excuse, and it wouldn’t be fair towards the other person.” He shrugged, finally cleaning his chin the rest of his mouth. He crumpled up the foil in his hands before throwing the ball he had formed into the paper bag. “It wouldn’t matter soon anyway; I don’t have much time left.” He jumped off the table and made his way to shelves where they kept most of the tools along with small spare car parts they might need some time in the future.

“How much time do you have left?” Jeonghan asked a little too exasperatedly than he would’ve liked, but Seungcheol had managed to catch his tone, and it was starting to make him feel uneasy. He closed a drawer he had mindlessly opened and dropped his head. Seungcheol hated looking at his timer because it never brought a good reaction out of him. He hated the way the anxiety would filter in through his veins as he let his mind wander to the what-ifs. 

For as long as he could remember, he only allowed himself to stare at the number scar before bed but never enough to dwell on it. Last night he had twenty-four hours left; now he was positive the timer had reached the single-digit zone, and to be frank, he was afraid. He didn’t want to feel the pressure against his chest and the shortness of his breath. He didn’t want to feel the shaking in his hands and sweat that formed against his brow bone. Seungcheol had already chosen, but he knew that the second he glanced over at the timer, his doubt would start to run free. And he hated that feeling more than anything, but he also hated Jeonghan’s burning gaze staring him down as if he were doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. So he caved. 

He turned his wrist and pushed the bracelets he used to hide his soulmate mark with his other hand. His breath caught itself in the back of his throat, his lungs closing in like two crushing walls as he saw the numbers ticking down. For a split second, he wondered if he had chosen the right path if his parent’s and his friends had been right all along. But he had been so sure just like he was confident that his name was Choi Seungcheol, that he had chosen right, so why was he letting his thoughts take over. 

Maybe it was the teachings of the Stars he grew up reading at home and at school, or the guilt has finally started to consume him. Whatever it was, he decided to push it aside, bury it deep inside the archives of his mind. He had chosen right, and he wasn’t going to let any false pretenses change his mind.

“Five hours.” 

Hour 3 - 19:00

Seungcheol moved the straw of his bubble, creating soft caramel tidal waves in the cup. He had already picked out all the tapioca pearls leaving him to deal with the unpleasant honeydew tea he had ordered. The soft melodies of an old pop song played in the background, drowning out the flirting going on between the lovers in front of him. He kept his eyes trained on his cup; it had started to accumulate the condensation that came with the humidity of the summertime. His index finger traced over the water droplets that had fallen onto the table, creating a small picture of nothing. 

Jeonghan had dragged him to their usual boba shop after closing up the shop for the night. He had given Joshua a frantic phone call, claiming it was a 911 type of emergency. Seungcheol wasn’t sure how they weren’t tired at having the same conversation, and why they couldn’t let him live with the consequences in peace? If he ended up unhappy, that was his problem, and he would eventually deal with it, but he couldn’t stand the way everyone around him always seemed to have an opinion on how he should live his life. 

It had started the day he was born, scarred with a mark against his own will. It carried out onto his childhood, his parents and teachers telling him how to sit, how to dress, how to speak, and how to breathe. When he left for college the same day his parents decided to disown him, he had finally felt free. He thought for himself, walked for himself and lived for himself. But now his best friend’s the ones he thought he could always count on and he felt knew him better than anyone in the world. Where the ones were trying to guilt-trip him into making a choice, he had made years ago, and frankly, he was getting really tired of it. 

“Are you even listening to us Seungcheol, this is your future you're putting at risk,” Joshua whispered angrily, his grip on his cup grew tight enough his knuckles had started turning white. 

“Why does it matter?” Seungcheol lightly flicked the straw of his drink before pushing it away and crossing his arms. Jeonghan and Joshua both looked at him as if he was growing a third head, annoying him even more. He wasn’t sure why this was such a big deal to them, it wasn’t their life getting ruined. 

“It matters because we don’t want to see you dead.” 

Hour 4 - 20:00

“Are you serious? Do you guys actually believe that kind of stuff?” Seungcheol shook his head and looked out the restaurant window. The sun had finished going down for it’s deep slumber and in return awakened the night life of the city. He took in the people smiling and laughing as they joked and clinged onto one another. He saw limbs start to give out as the alcohol they had previously consumed started to replace their blood. Seungcheol found himself wishing he was one of those people, where the one controlling his body wasn’t the one that gave up on their dreams but instead still held onto that small sliver of hope. It would at least be an escape for a little and most importantly it would be an escape from the painful talk his best friend’s were giving him. 

“Fuck you Seungcheol.” Joshua spat out, quickly he stood up grabbing his coat and shrugged it on. “I’m not going to stay with you and watch the clock count down until you die.” He stuffed his hands in his pocket and took out his wallet before throwing some money onto the table. “Are you coming with me?” He said before facing Jeonghan who was biting his bottom lip in contemplation. Seungcheol saw the gears turn in his head as he thought over his options, his eyes traveling between the furious looking Joshua and himself. 

“Joshua calm down, look there have been some cases in the news lately of mysterious deaths and the only thing they have in common is that their timers went out before they got to meet their soulmate. I don’t know if it's all connected but it can’t just be coincidence Seungcheol.” Jeonghan stated, he tapped his forefinger against the wooden table as Joshua eyed him down waiting impatiently. 

“And what if it is, what if I do find this person and then they turn out to be horrible? You guys got lucky but my life has never been a series of unfortunate events since the beginning of time so who's to say this is any different?” 

“If you keep sitting here and mopping and feeling sorry for yourself, you’ll never find out.” Jeonghan nodded before taking out his wallet and throwing money onto the table. He hated the pity he saw behind his eyes. It only frustrated him because to him it felt like they had given up on him already. That they were planning his funeral without him leaving the world yet. Seungcheol wasn’t entirely convinced that death was at the end of this unfortunate journey, he sadly hoped it was. That way his friend’s would actually have something to pity, but he was alive and healthy (for the most part) so their pity in Seungcheol’s eyes was uncalled for. 

“Then let me find out. Everyone is always telling me what I should and shouldn’t do, I didn’t need you guys to also be one of those people too. You’re supposed to be my friends but here you are nagging me like you’re my parents. If I’m not worthy of hanging with you guys anymore because I’m not married and I have no interest in ever getting married then just leave me alone. I’m better off by myself anyway.” 

Seungcheol knew that as soon as the words left his mouth they had been a mistake, but mistake or not he would never take them back. No matter how the luck of hurt flashing in their handsome features affected him more than it should’ve. These few hours could be the last of his life and instead of living it to his fullest with his closest friends he was pushing them away. Just like he always did whenever he felt too comfortable or afraid. 

“Jeonghan let’s just go, he’s already made up his mind. He’s not going to listen to us.” Joshua sighed, the exhaustion was evident on his face. It was clear he had given up long before the events of tonight. He knew how stubborn Seungcheol was, he knew that once he sets his mind to something there’s no way to turn it back. Seungcheol suspected that’s why he hadn’t tried as hard as Jeonghan to convince him to change his mind. 

“Cheol, just think about it okay. You don’t have to go out and actively look for that person but just keep an open mind and they might just appear right before you. I know you think that we’re trying to do this to change you or to get you to settle down, but we don’t want to turn on the news tomorrow and have your names be part of one of the victims. If you can’t do this for us or yourself at least do it for you mom.” Jeonghan nodded one last time before scooting himself out of the booth. He stood sending a glare to Joshua that wasn’t missed by Seungcheol and somehow it made him feel uneasy inside. He didn’t want to be the one to cause a rift between him and Joshua’s friendship, they had known each other longer than they had known Seungcheol. For half of their life’s Seungcheol was simply an outsider between the threesome. He didn’t know at what moment they became inseparable, but now he wished they hadn’t. 

At least they wouldn’t be involved in the webs of Seungcheol’s complicated life, and they certainly wouldn’t be here showing the utmost care for him when he himself felt like he was unworthy of it. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow” Jeonghan mumbled before dragging Joshua out of the restaurant, mumbling angrily underneath his breath. Seungcheol knew the small comment was Jeonghan’s way of holding onto the little amount of hope he had for his friend. The hope that he would walk into the car shop tomorrow morning and see Seungcheol passed out drunk, his drool stain embedded into the checkered pattern of the old battered couch in the office, because he couldn’t remember how to unlock his front door.

Though, it was a phrase full of hope, it wasn’t a promise, and it felt more like a goodbye to Seungcheol. It made him uneasy and Seungcheol hated feeling uneasy because it only made the ticking sound of the clock tattooed onto his skin louder. 

The front door bell to the restaurant sounded, signaling that someone had walked in or out. He turned to face out the window again and saw Jeonghan and Joshua in a heated argument before Jeonghan kept dragging him away by the ear this time. The scene could’ve been comical to him at some point, but now he just wondered if they were all going to be okay by the time the night ended and morning came again. 

Either way it was clear to him that they had walked out of his life, maybe not for good but they also wouldn’t be the first ones either. 

Hour 5 -21:00

Seungcheol paid the bill and exited the restaurant quietly, his best attempt to remain invisible. It would be a lie if didn’t admit how scared he was after Jeonghan and Joshua left him alone with his thoughts for the first time since he awoke that morning. 

Would his faith really be death?

Or where they using their evil tactics against him to convince him to do the right thing. Needless to say he was scared, more scared than he ever was whenever he thought about falling in love. 

He had once, a long time ago, back when he was still studying music production in college, before he dropped out and took up a job at Mr. Yoon’s carshop. During the three years he was there, all the songs he had composed resembled something about her. Whether it was a phrase she had said or the way the color blue seemed to make her honey doe eyes pop. He was in love, head over heels, ready to give it all up, his friends, his pride, his dream, his life, everything under the sun, for her. He had his bags packed long before she had agreed to run away with him. 

In fact, he almost did, but the morning as he stood underneath the winter sun, waiting at the bus stop with two overprized one way tickets, with his fingers threatening to fall off from the cool. Everything became clear to him, she had abandoned him and their plan. She had given up on him, just like his parents had when he first told him he was going to follow his dream, instead of theirs. 

Seungcheol was angry, it boiled inside of him like an overflowing calderon, and the closer he got to the university and his dorm, the more it spilled over. In a frenzy he had entered his home and destroyed everything he owned. His studio setup, his computer, his many notebooks that were filled with lyrics, because everything had been touched by her and he wanted nothing to do with her anymore. Not after she had lied boldly to his face the night before when they shared the most intimate moment with each other. 

And just like he promised to her underneath the moonlight, he gave it all up, but this time because she had broken him. 

There was a letter she had left for him to find. It didn’t come into his possession after he had stopped attending classes and was living on Jeonghan and Joshua’s couch. The university had called him to pick up his belongings from his dorm after he dropped all his classes on whim one Saturday afternoon. When he did, when he opened the front door of the wretched dorm room, the room that once held so many beautiful memories turned sour. The toe of his shoe was met with a brown paper envelope, his name scribbled neatly on the back. Instantly he knew who it was from. 

Seungcheol had once prided himself in memorizing the way her letters curved with one another. A useless talent he now wished he could forget entirely. With a hesitant he opened it and skimmed through, not wanting to linger long enough on every single one of her words so it would hurt less. 

In the end it did.

It hurt more than her leaving him stranded on the bus stop that morning. It hurt more than finding out that the little things she had strategically left at his place had mysteriously disappeared when he came back home that morning. It hurt more than giving up entirely on a dream so pure that it ended up tainted. It hurt more than dying, or so he assumed because now he finally knew the truth. A truth he had been blinded to the entire three years they spent lost in each other’s thoughts and arms. 

She didn’t love, and she never did. She had a passion that consumed her to the point of greed and when she realized she wasn’t going to achieve her dream with Seungcheol at her side. 

She left and he had given up love for good. 

Which is why Seungcheol was so against the entire soulmate phenomenon. If death was the outcome then so be it, even though the thought of his mom finding him out he was dead scared him to the point it welcomed chills to his body. He was stubborn though, and his father always hated that about him because it reminded him of his younger self. But Seungcheol was never going to give in, no matter how loud the click on his wrist was ticking and how fast he found himself walking.

There was a little bit of hope. It was reserved for special occasions and those had been a rarity in Seungcheol’s life for longer than he liked to admit. But it was still there, buried deep inside, behind his walls and his pride. And it was threatening to burst out into the open, because as much as Seuncheol was scared of falling in love again, this time with a complete stranger, terrified him. The thought of not knowing if his life was really at stake was far scarier. He was gambling with his life line and that was a risk he found himself not willing to take. Though he would never admit to himself and especially not to Jeonghan or Joshua. 

He was in complete denial at least for a slight second. Yet, he had started to walk with fever and hastily. He was desperate, he didn’t know where to start or how to start or if he should even start. He just walked, until his body was running on autopilot. He didn’t know where he was going or where  he was going to end up, but the only thing on his mind was that the timer was blaring inside of his eardrums at an alarming rate, and the hope he kept at bay spilling out of his pores. 

He needed to find his soulmate before it was too late. 

Seungcheol didn’t want to die, he still had a dream to achieve. He will do it, he had promised himself that much. And he wasn’t going to let anyone take it away from again. 

Hour 6 - 22:00

Seungcheol was panting, bending over, with his sweaty palms against his jean clad legs as tried his best to put the air back in his lungs. 

He wasn’t sure how long he had been walking, all he could remember was bumping into a few people along the way and mumbling sorry’s underneath his breath when they had sent him glares his way. But he had ended up at the park across the street from his studio apartment, the one he rarely lived in because more often than not. The old raggedy couch at the car shop had been his home for as long as he had worked there. He had bought it last year after saving up enough money, in hopes of it becoming his new beginning, his safe space, where he could jump right back into working on his one goal in life. 

Though, the first night he had spent there, he had hated it. Occasionally he would give it a second chance. He had given it many second chances, but the outcome was always the same. He would stay awake until four in the morning, get frustrated and then end up running laps at the park until sunrise. 

This park had been his sanctuary, the one his apartment couldn’t provide, so it was no surprise his body had carried him here. He felt at home here, the hollowing of the wind chiming and wrapping around him like a blanket of safety. Here, in this park, Seungcheol felt comfortable enough to let his mind race through the thoughts he would keep hidden behind a wall. 

He straightened himself out, running his fingers through his wet sweaty hair and made his way to the park bench by the basketball court, where he would occasionally lay down in the middle and look at the sky, counting the lack of stars in the sky. He knew they were there, but because of the city's light pollution they were invisible to his eye. Those were the only stars he trusted, not the ones that used the Universe’s gifts for their own selfish desires and to control everyone. 

The stars in the night sky, the one’s he used his imagination and intuition to connect with, trusted him. They were the only one’s in his life that believed in him, even when he couldn’t believe in himself, and it made him feel at ease knowing that at least someone out there was rooting for him to win this losing battle.

Seungcheol took a deep sigh and placed his palm over the watch on the inside of his wrist. He had only two hours left, and he would rather not witness the time ticking down. He could hear it, it was drumming loudly against his eardrums, loud enough to the point in which he couldn’t hear the wind and the tree’s surrounding him singing their natural melody. The last thing he needed was to see the visual representation of his last breath nearing him. 

He wanted to fight, but he was tired. If tonight was his last night living a life he had been so cruel to. He would at least take his last breath at the place he felt most at home. 

So, he sat back and closed his eyes tightly. He felt the wind against his cooling skin, the familiar shivers running up his spine. For the first time since he woke up that morning he felt at peace. 

Hour 7 - 23:00

The ringing of his phone startled him. He had only had his eyes closed for about five minutes. Only five minutes of peace before it was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He let out a frustrated sigh and fished out his phone from the pocket of his oil stained light washed jeans. His gaze and heart softened when he realized his mother was the one calling him. Without hesitation he unlocked his phone and placed his phone to his ear.

Silence. He was met with silence, until a choked sob broke it, his heart shattering in the process. “M-Mom, what’s wrong?” Seungcheol sat up. His eyes grew wide. The anxiety running through his body making his leg bounce. 

“Joshua called me. He was freaking out saying that you were making a mistake. What is talking about? You’re not thinking about leaving again?” His mom spoke. Seungcheol could visualize the almost heart attack Joshua had given his mother when he called. He could visualize the color draining from her face as her hands shook while she dialed his number. Seungcheol’s mother was an over thinker and she always thought about the worst possible scenarios. Especially when it came to Seungcheol and his brother. Joshua knew what he was doing when he had called his mother. He knew that his mother was his weakness. Despite the differences they argued about over the years, Seungcheol loved his mother and knowing she was in such distress because of him, scared him more than what he already was. 

“Nothing mom, he’s over exaggerating. Jeonghan, him and I had a small argument earlier but it’s nothing mom. I’m okay.” He spoke into the receiver lying through his teeth. He wasn’t fine, although he was in his sanctuary and at peace. His timer finally reached the fifty-nine minute mark and his heart was racing to the point he was scared it would literally squeeze through the spaces between his ribs and rip through the safety of his skin, onto the concrete pavement beneath his feet. 

“Are you sure? He sounded really scared and worried, what did you guys fight about?” The words came rushing out of her mouth at lighting speed. He knew that question was coming and although he tried scouring through the files in his mind to come up with a concrete answer that would make his mother worry less. He couldn’t. There was no answer he could give her. If she lied she would know, but if he told the truth, his mother would certainly never be able to recover. 

He knew he could prevent her heartbreak. All he had to do was get up and start walking again, let his feet carry him as his intuition and the Universe led him to where he needed to be, but he stayed seated. His hand closing into a fist taking the roughness of his jeans between them, the frustration, fear and anxiety coursing through his veins faster than before. Maybe if he wasn’t such a coward, maybe if he didn’t let his own selfishness consume him to the point it clouded his judgment, he could’ve let himself do what he needed to do. What he wanted to do. 

“It’s not a big deal, Jeonghan asked him to be his best man and I got a little upset. Tomorrow we’ll be fine and laugh about it.” He said letting out the breath he had been holding in. He knew he sounded like he had just ran a few miles rather than sitting down in complete silence and stillness. 

“I know you’re lying but I have been able to get the truth out of you, so I’ll drop it. At least I know you’re okay and you’re still here.” Seungcheol’s mother stopped speaking for a second, he could hear his father whispering something to her and his mother answering in agreement. “Visit us tomorrow, your brother is coming over tomorrow for dinner. Your dad wants to see you.” She half whispered the last part and it brought a slight smile to his face. For years Seungcheol and his father had not been on good terms, whenever they saw each other, his future always became the topic of conversation. His father always shared his disapproval and disappointment on how Seungcheol’s life had turned out. His father expected too much from both him and his brother, he had dreams in which he had tried to instill in them. It wasn’t enough that one of his sons had achieved his dream, his pride was attached to the two of them. And knowing that Seungcheol always refused, always followed the beat of his own drum, wounded his pride. 

His mother and brother always tried their best to bridge the gap between them that had only grown deeper over the years. 

Seungcheol admired their commitment, but just being in his father’s presence fully aware of how he felt towards him was only a simple reminder of what he did not want to become, and it only made him resent him even more. 

“I don’t know mom, I work until late tomorrow and I wouldn’t have enough time to go home shower and change. Maybe some other time.” Seungcheol whispered. The wind blew causing a single leaf to escape its perspective branch. Seungcheol watched it closely as it flew down, landing on his lap. He picked it up in between his forefinger and thumb, twirling the steam as he listened to his mother sigh out. 

“Just come after work...it’s important.” 

Seungcheol wanted to say yes. The simple three letter word was one of the hardest ones to say. With the urgency in his mother’s voice, he knew that she wasn’t lying and that whatever his father had to tell him. It was important. But Seungcheol didn’t want to make a promise he could not keep. For he didn’t know if his tomorrow would ever come. If the last thirty minutes (indicated by the timer on his wrist) would be the last thirty minutes of his life. 

He wondered if it was possible for time to run faster than before, and the quick ticking sound in his head proved that he was right. It was now drowning out the sound of his mother’s low and desperate pleas. 

“M-Mom I’ll see what I can do, maybe if Jeonghan is in a good mood I can convince him to let me off early, I’ll try to be there by dinner time.” The almost empty promise escaped his throat, running past his teeth and perfect lips faster than he could stop himself.

“Perfect. We’ll see you tomorrow.” His mother cheered. He could hear and sense her happiness through the receiver of his phone and it shattered his heart. When tomorrow came and what Jeonghan and Joshua both claimed to be true would happen. What would be his mother’s reaction?

“I’ll try mom, you know I’m not good at keeping promises.” He half joked, the tears had started to pool in the corner of his eyes. He looked up at the night sky, making eye contact with the moon. They had once been intimate, but over the last few months they had been disconnected, the stars surrounding her protecting her from his own selfish needs and acts. He missed her, he wished he could feel her light upon his skin, caressing him and holding him in ways he wanted to be held. Ways in which he needed to be held. Though, he could feel her reluctance as he took in her beauty. She was there with him, keeping him company as the last twenty minutes of his life counted down. 

“You always find a way to keep them Seungcheol. I’ll see you tomorrow night. I love you.” 

“I love you too mom.” He whispered before the line went dead. Seungcheol sighed, bringing down his phone from his ear. He stared at his mother’s contact name, trying to decide if he should call her back again. Tell her that he wasn’t fine that he was scared and that he wanted to be in her arms, singing the song she always sang to him whenever his imagination betrayed him, plaguing his dreams with nightmares. But he didn’t again, his own pride and reluctance, the one he gets from his father and the reason why they clash so much kept him calling her back. 

Instead he looked at his timer one last time, noted that there were ten minutes left and placed his phone down next to him on the bench. He took in his surroundings one last time before leaning his back and closing his tired soft eyes. 

Hour 8: 24:00

“Excuse me?”

Seungcheol opened his eyes upon hearing the sound of the soft voice behind him and the light tap on his shoulder. He sat up quickly looking around frantically. He only had five minutes left and his peace had been disturbed. He turned around his gaze falling upon someone he had only seen in his dreams. 

“You dropped your phone.” You said shakingly, handing him his phone. He assumed that it had fallen through the cracks of the bench; he had been so deep in his thoughts he didn’t hear the thud of it hitting the ground. 

“Oh um, thank you.” He spoke quickly, taking his phone. His fingers accidentally brushed over the soft skin of your wrist, the familiar digital clock appearing before him and the ticking sound became loud enough to the point he couldn’t hear the nagging voice that had stayed with him for the last twenty five years of his life. Quickly he glanced down to his wrist and then at yours, he could feel the fear radiating out of your pores as the seconds counted down faster than the speed of light. 

Seungcheol almost laughed. In fact he felt the laugh suppressing itself in the back of his throat. But as the timer finally reached the infamous zero’s, his last breath didn’t come, and neither did yours. He watched as you looked around frantically before your eyes found his. You let out the sob you had been suppressing for the entirety of the day. Your knees gave up on you and you leaned down hugging your calves, burying your face into your thighs, the sobs came quickly and Seungcheol sat there not knowing what to do. 

It was like his body was acting on his and he stood up, rounding the corner of the bench and crouched down. His shaking arms wrapped around you tightly, running a soothing hand down your back, smoothing out the wrinkles of your navy blue sweatshirt. 

The next words we muttered, were words he never thought he would say again. But again it felt like he wasn’t in control of his body. It felt like after the timer hit the long awaited double zero’s his body belonged to someone else, almost as if he had been reborn again after twenty five years. 

“It’s okay, I am here.” 

[everyothermouse]

A lil group portrait of the time au adventuring gang!! Them <333

Basically tol fucked up as a kid and is now on the run from the law, but realized that since his life was so crazy he could live off of telling stories of his wacky adventures. When he met Jay he wanted him to come with him, and when he found out jay couldn't come cus he was virtually a demon/god/magic magnet he decided he NEEDED to bring him to capitalize on how it'd make more cool stories. And yeah it worked so since then he's been collecting wackos to aaa go crazy aaaa go stupid (and also bcus safety I numbers or whateva, pop and pip are also criminals and pastel and jay are crimes against god <3) more about each individual under the cut!

Doin them from left to right :)

Pastel: died when she was messing around with some friends and got stuck under a big rock and left to starve. But because of a fluke in the underworld her God decided to resurrect her, a right usually only belonging to saints. Because of this she's now poorly pretending that she totally did something to deserve being revived (she tells a different story every time someone asks, she thinks it's funny) to avoid being persecuted for suspected witchcraft. She met Jay when they were both drunk and they had fun fucking around in the city, and she spilled the beans to him that she was revived for no reason. She regretted it, but jay didn't kill her because even though he's religious he knew what it felt like to be magically cursed and have everyone be pissed at u for it. Also she's really funny with jay so tol begged her to come with them to add more Comedy(tm) to his memoirs

Pop: a time traveller and angel who is trying to hide both of those facts but only really succeeding at hiding the time travel thing. When they were a kid they traveled to this time with his friends Lustre and Cherrybomb, but when they were attacked by the vicious royal guard they weren't able to escape without leaving Lustre behind. Cherrybomb super repressed that memory, and while pop recovered from some minor injuries they vowed to never time travel again. Yeah they only kept that up until they were like 15, but they still couldn't bring themself to go back to when they left Lustre. But now they're 26 (well technically they're like 33 but in their time their supposed to be 26) living with their boyfriend cherrybomb and have years of time travel experience under their belt, and they're ready to go back. Except they can't go back because they created a travel block for themself by accident because of how upsetting the event was, so instead they traveled as close as they could, about 10 years in the future of the time. Now they search for any form of closure, all they need to know is what happened to their friend, and they will do whatever it takes to find this out. But angels aren't super welcome in the past, especially not with uncut wings, so it's not exactly easy for them to navigate this time period. But after a while of their search they met two lovely children (well young adults), a demon and a "cursed" (nowadays they call em spiritually gifted) and felt so bad for how much the world seemed to be against them they decided they could travel with them, just for a bit, to protect them. They tried not to get attached. They failed. They're in it for the long run now aren't they TwT also as they explore this time and learn more about the gods, they start to realize that they might... be the God of longevity???? Or at least an older version of them became them? Time travel is fucked man

Btw Lustre plays a big role in this plot, her hyper futuristic knowledge, 'blessed' white eyes, and strange God gifted clothing would all lead to him rising to a much different role than fugitive rather quickly, but they're not who this post is about ;) also I'm gonna go bottom to top for the 3 in the middle let's go

Lune: just a little guy :) lune is a young rancher/gardener who worships the God of the wood, who kind of goes missing sometimes and is lowkey the least loyal God but shhhh he loves them. Lune and tol were childhood friends (along with their pal cleo) but on one of their little excursions tol took something very important to a very powerful king, and refused to give it back. As retribution the king destroyed their entire town, and cleo put all the blame on tol, tol and lune both knew lune had to take the side against tol in order to not have the town turn on him. So yeah he moved with the town to bring up a brand new farm, long awaiting the day when tol would come home and say that things were OK and they could settle back in town together, hopefully with cleo too. That didn't happen, but tol did come back and peer pressure lune into part time adventuring with him! So yeah generally lune just runs his lil farm and prays, but when tol comes to pick him up he gets a chance to go be free to act batshit crazy, just like when he was a kid 🥰

Pipes: DEmon! One time lune and tol had a little squabble so lune was like 'im gonna get a new best friend and ur gonna regret this' and tol was like 'yeah right, u live with a bunch of criminals right now no one's gonna wanna be ur bestie dumbass' so lune just walked into a cave at night and dragged out this little nonverbal demon because demons who live alone in caves don't have high standards for friends. Even tho it was just a ploy to make tol jealous lune went super hard on it and now pipes is actually friends with the gang lmaoo

Tol: like I said with lunes, stole something important from a king as a kid, monarch got pissed, blew up the town, town got pissed at tol for it, and since then he's been on the run because he's too stubborn to give back the damn thing (they could have just attacked HIM for it, but since la queen decided to fuck with his town, his family, tol thinks he doesn't deserve to have it back.) He had to run from town to town and got into a lot of danger in his attempts at finding places to hide, but he lacks fear and tended to fight stuff off. As a kid he found that he could get enough pity to be welcomed into towns if he told people he had to fight a monster to get there, so he told stories at every town and camp he went to of his hardships. But as he got older, those he stayed with beckoned him to keep talking, and more and more people said they had heard of his adventures. And that's when when it clicked, his shining ticket to true freedom wasn't a place, it was his stories. They gave him food, shelter, fun, memories, a life. So he made it his mission to never settle down, to make his life as crazy as possible and to talk about it as much as possible, and if he ever ran out of energy to adventure, he'd spend the rest of his dying days writing and writing his entire life story. He thought this was a life he'd live alone, but one day he sought refuge in jays little lonely house because he thought it was abonded, luckily though Jay had just been praying for a second chance at life and decided that considering the timing, tol must be that second chance. So yeah jay patched him up, found out on his monthly supply route he was harboring someone very wanted, and took care of tol even harder because he didn't know or care why he was wanted, he just knew that anyone who had a drawing of them as a child on a wanted poster definitely didn't deserve it. So yeah they're besties now.

AAA I wrote out a really long description for jay but tumblr glitched and I lost it :'O ble here's a shorter rewrite cus I'm not writing out that whole thing again >:P

Jay: brought up in a church village,, he was born with the curse, which allows him to tap into magical properties very easily, and be very easily controlled, manipulated, and possessed by them. This allowed him to be very connected with his god (the god of longevity) but also meant he was often treated as a security risk and a monster by the adults of his town since he could let in evil spirits so easily. He spent most of his time praying and he became obsessed with acting on compulsions (repeated prayer, overscrubbing, scratching himself, touching religious things until he felt like he touched them "right") because he believed they were messages from God and would prevent him from becoming evil (look he was a teenager and everyone told him he was a monster his whole life leave him be.) He gets possessed twice, mage as a rep of the town is like "either have ur cursed removed or leave town forever" (uncursing is only hypothetically possible, it's hella dangerous) and he's scared itd sever his connection to his god so he leaves and he's upset bcus his entire life plan was built around his church, so now he's livin alone on a hill and leaving like once a month, he stays up there and sews and prays mostly, he sort of works on himself and becomes vaguely mentally stable, so he prays for a second chance at life since he lost his original path and needs a sign where to go, and then boom tol shows up and the rest is history. Now he has his own little family and things are going great :) other than the still getting possessed like once a week but shhhh

Pip: in between the entrance to hell and the religious central of the continent is a little town that sides with neither. They mostly fuck around and find out, and in this town lives a monster researcher and her less formal wife, pip! Pip is just a silly goofy little guy livin life, and when the crazy bunch shows up she feels like he's finally found her people :3 and for the first time the group gains a member who's begging to join them as opposed to the other way around

Ya and together they all go on wacky lil adventures with demons and monsters and monarchs and what not.

Tldr pastel is a funny lil dead guy, pop is a time traveller and the Adult of the team, lunes a lil farmer man, pipes a hobo demon they picked up off the side of the road, tols a little criminal demon adventurer, jays a religious weirdo who tol dragged out of his hermit hut, and pips an insane little guy